The Choices We Make
by alexajaye
Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?  Not this time.  This time there's blood and sex and ending up on the wrong end of a gun.  This time, it's life or death. AH/AU. Not an E/B story.  Strong Warnings inside. Very M. Now Complete.
1. Secrets Within Lies

**This isn't my usual fare, and I'm kind of dipping my toes in the deep end of the pool here for this one. Public opinion is essential for this one.**

**This story also has a bunch of warnings. READ: This story will include most, if not all of these = Coarse language, violence, sex, non-consensual sex, disturbing imagery and otherwise "Not" Twilight activities. If you don't like or can't handle any of those things, DON'T READ.**

**Thanks to S R Devastate for Beta-ing with me. You could say we're in this together.**

**Not 18? Turn around and go back. I won't be responsible for you!**

**Still want to read? Please. And thank you.  
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><p><em>Edward Cullen &amp; Bella Swan were attracted to each other the moment they laid eyes on each other —not in any romantic way like most couples, but as a business arrangement. He was tall and handsome with a smile that made most women melt, and she was petite and sassy with a body most men would kill to have spread beneath them. And upon meeting each other for the first time, they knew they could use their assets to their advantage. Edward was itching to hit a few casinos in Las Vegas, and Bella was dying to turn a few of the mobsters left over on the Strip. They were perfect for each other as business partners, and they were both single to boot.<em>

_Edward's family, his father Carlisle, his mother Esme, his sister Rosalie and brother Jasper belonged to the high society of Chicago, and Bella's mother Rene and her father Charlie were in on the Los Angeles movie scene with big stars and new money that was California. She even had a cousin Jessica who was dating the Governor, and her best friend Jacob was the "It" boy of Hollywood. But that wasn't enough for Edward and Bella. They wanted to leave their own mark on the world._

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><p><strong>Secrets Within Lies<strong>

**Back then.**

Edward had bought a lot of things over the course of his life: money, cars and women. But the truth was the he didn't actually own any of it. The cars were Rolls Royce and BMW's, and they'd been bought with old money. The women were stuffy and dreadfully uptight and wouldn't know a decent fuck if it hit them in the ass. So for his and Bella's first outing as business partners, Edward wanted to steal a car.

Though Edward's father had allowed him to test drive any car he wanted, he was never allowed to own one, even after he turned twenty-one. But Edward had always wanted to drive a Ferrari, and his "vacation" in Las Vegas with Bella gave him the perfect opportunity to stop by a local dealer. The moment he found the Ferrari 599 GTB, he knew he was in love. The woman at the dealership that day was more than willing to let him take it for a test drive, and he offered to bring her along.

"You're a beautiful woman," he said to her as they left the main building and headed to an aisle of cars with the model he was looking at. He slipped his hand over her ass, and she smiled at him, grasping onto his shoulder and flattening her palm over his chest.

She had fluffy light blond hair, bright blue eyes and deep red lipstick. Her black dress hugged every curve of her voluptuous body and barely covered her tight ass. A slit up the back showed off long legs lifted by shiny red stilettos. She laughed loudly, looking out over the lot to the aisle where he was leading her, and her smile faded when she saw Bella standing next to the deep maroon car he wanted to test drive.

"You don't mind if my fiancé comes along with us, do you, love?" he crooned softly in her ear, leaning closer and gently licking the small creases of her ear in a way that made her catch her breath in her throat. He tightened his grasp on her bottom, and she pouted slightly.

"It's only a two-seater," she told him.

They arrived at the car, and Edward played nice with Bella, stepping in front of her and kissing her deeply as he pulled her into him. The sales woman frowned, and he smiled at Bella before turning his attention back to their hostage.

"That's all right, darling," he soothed. "I'm sure Bella will love to share the other seat with you. I know I will."

He took the keys from her, eased her around to the passenger door and then opened it for her before Bella slipped into the passenger seat behind her. He smiled widely as he hurried around to the driver's side, sliding in and the turning on the car. It hummed and purred gently as he gunned the gas, and with a crooked grin in the woman's direction, he pulled out of the car lot with no intention of going back.

The greater metropolitan area of Las Vegas sped by as he pulled through light traffic, and he glanced in the passenger seat to see Bella keeping the woman busy. Her only defenses against Bella were her skimpy clothes. Edward bet to himself she would regret dressing like a slut today — eventually. Slowly, Bella turned the woman to face her, and they kissed, allowing Edward to take the exit onto the freeway that would carry them outside the city. He liked seeing Bella enjoy herself, and he couldn't believe how easy it had been to charm their hostage from her cool office in the middle of the desert.

"What's your name?" Bella asked the woman casually, kissing her and then pulling her dress up to reveal a pair of blood-red silk panties.

"Honey," she moaned, swaying her hips to feel the moisture obviously pooling between her legs. "Honey Lovegood."

Edward laughed gripping the steering wheel and wanting desperately to bury himself between her legs. It hadn't been long since he'd had a woman other than Bella, and this poor woman looked good enough to have before they threw her away.

Bella pulled Honey's dress off her shoulders, exposing her bare breasts to the inside of the car. Bella's palms massaged Honey's nipples to get her even more worked up.

"Bella, love, slow down just a little bit," he pleaded. "We don't want to move too fast."

Honey moaned again, arching her back and panting as Bella slipped her fingers into the red panties covering her wet pussy. Edward longed to touch her, despite her not being anywhere near his type. It wasn't that she was blond or a little flimsy. A real woman wouldn't be so susceptible to a con like this. Edward shouldn't have even been able to get off the car lot with Bella in the car with them. But he knew how to pick the easy ones for any con. Bella wasn't easy, but she was serious. Edward could appreciate that.

Bella slipped off Honey's panties, spreading her legs and reaching for Edward's hand so he could have a feel before they stopped for the afternoon. Her wet folds were so plump, and her clitoris pulsed with want. He moved his fingers all over her hot cunt, driving one and then two and finally three inside her before she cried out with a deep groan. He laughed again, gripping the steering wheel and leaning across the car to turn Honey's face toward his so he could kiss her. She sighed softly as she began to relax.

"Having fun?" Bella teased.

"Much," Edward gushed.

"Keep your eyes on the road," she ordered, reaching into the glove box and pulling out a brown bottle of pills. While holding bottle of water she'd had before getting into the car, she opened Honey's mouth and slipped two pills inside before chasing it with a shot of water. It was easy to make her swallow. Since she was already pliable, the drugs would put her out within half an hour.

"I can't believe how easy that was!" Edward laughed, watching Bella replace Honey's clothes. "Oh, we have to do this again!"

Bella smiled coyly, shoving Honey off the seat and reaching for the radio to see which stations she could find. Edward watched her with a happy smile on his face. Then he shifted gears, taking the car into third. His foot hit the gas as they sped down the freeway toward San Diego.

It was the first time Edward could remember feeling up a woman's pussy without following it up with a nice long ride with his dick inside her, but it was okay. He knew that was coming once she woke. The last time he'd fucked one of those high society bitches, she'd belonged to a grandmother who believed he was a nice young man from a prominent Chicago family. She'd been so horribly stuck up, not even letting him touch her until she'd had four shots of tequila and a round of drinks from her grandmother's wet bar. Of course, after that, it had only been a question of whether to take her right there or show a little discretion and fuck her in the bed on the other side of the luxurious apartment they'd been inside at the time. Needless to say, by morning, he'd had her every which way there was, and while he'd come out of it with a healthy dose of pussy, she'd gotten a little more than a headache from all the liquor she'd consumed. He hadn't seen her since, and he never planned on seeing her again.

Once they were well outside of Las Vegas, Edward shifted into second gear, speeding up again and weaving in and out of traffic while still close to the speed limit. He figured they had a good hour before anyone realized the car and Honey were gone, and by then, he knew they would be across the state line. He'd never felt more exhilarated in his life, and his dick was so hard, he knew he could fuck all night if he wanted to. It was a good thing Honey was going to be awake by then. Maybe he'd stop on the way and relieve some tension before they got back on the freeway to San Diego. He was betting Honey would feel just like her namesake with his cock buried inside her hot well.

His phone rang from his left pocket then, and against his better judgement, he answered it to hear his brother's voice on the other end.

"When are you coming back to Chicago?" Jasper asked, probably while he was sitting in the parlor with a prostitute on his lap, Edward thought

"Probably next week," Edward guessed. "I'm enjoying myself, which I get to do so very rarely while I'm home. How's Father? Still expecting me to behave like the inexperienced virgin he keeps perpetuating onto the women at his country club. I think the one he introduced me to last time was barely legal."

"He knows you're up to something," Jasper informed him. "Edward, be realistic. That girl you're jetting around with isn't a part of our world. She's not like us."

Edward glanced at Bella as she still fiddled with the radio, and he frowned, knowing Jasper was probably right. Despite her parents being wealthy, they'd come into it quite recently, just before Bella had turned nine. Now that she was almost twenty, she should've been dressing like a lady and accepting offers from nice men who were closer to her father's financial level. Instead, she'd hooked Edward in one glance, despite him being several levels of wealth above her. But Edward liked her. She was tough and saucy around the edges. She was also really good in bed unlike those high and mighty cunts, but he wasn't going to tell Jasper that for fear that the twenty-seven-year-old businessman might want to take her for a spin.

"I'm having fun," Edward told Jasper. "And I'll continue to until I think I've had enough. Tell Father not to worry about me. Tell him he should be worrying about Rosalie. She's the one dating that massive football star. What's his name? Emmett?"

Jasper sighed heavily, whispering off to the side of the phone. "That's it. Sign there." Then he spoke to Edward. "You better not get into any trouble. I have enough to deal with here without having to bail you out of something you know better than to do."

Edward grinned, still weaving and gazing at the horizon as the desert came into view. "You have my word, brother. You won't have to bail me out of anything."

"Good. Later."

Edward shut off his phone, smiling to himself. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much," he mused, stuffing his phone back into his pocket as Bella spoke up.

"Taking shit from Jasper, I see," she teased, leaning over the console and laying her hand over Edward's thigh.

He laid his hand over hers. "Never. Just doing what I can to prolong our little excursion."

She leaned closer, and he turned his face to hers, kissing her just as deeply as he had in the car lot and moving her hand over his crotch. She appeased him easily, rubbing him through his jeans and causing him to groan deep in his throat. She was usually so good at fixing his little problems without them actually having to do anything. Her tight little pussy was worth everything he had and more, no matter what Jasper said. She truly was diamond in the rough, a rare jewel in need of some polishing. Edward was only too happy to do it for her.

Much to Edward's delight, Honey was wide awake and very aware of her surroundings when they pulled into a motel just over the California border, and while Bella got her ready, Edward disrobed to his boxers. Bella took her sweet time tying Honey to the regretfully tiny bed, and once she was spread-eagle on top of the mattress, Edward moved in for the fuck. He started at Honey's perky breasts, licking and sucking on her taut nipples until she was writhing beneath him as Bella tightened Honey's bonds to the flimsy metal head piece of the bed. Edward lowered his fingers back to Honey's exposed pussy, stroking her down. Once again three of his fingers delved inside her until she cried out in ecstasy. Bella chose that moment to stuff a cloth from the bathroom in Honey's mouth, and she moaned around it, rotating her hips with Edward's plundering fingers.

Too often, Edward lifted his eyes to Bella's, seeing a spark in their deep brown hue and a smirk on her face. He knew she was probably getting a rise out of watching, and he wanted as much to share this with her as to experience it himself. So he reached for Bella while he finger-fucked Honey. Then suddenly he was kissing Bella as deeply as he had in the parking lot a couple of hours earlier. Bella broke the kiss first, moving behind Edward and pulling his boxers off to reveal his erect dick to Honey's heavily hooded eyes. Bella took a few liberties, leaning in to kiss Edward again and wrapping her hand around his thick shaft. He groaned against her mouth, clenching his jaws and then crawling closer to Honey.

She was willing, even as she shook her head. Edward knew she was ready, especially with as wet as she was, and he zeroed in on her dripping entrance only a few excruciating seconds before sealing the deal all the way to her center. She moaned louder around the cloth in her mouth, and he began thrusting despite her struggles against her bonds. He licked and sucked on her breasts, grasping onto her hips and pulling her against him as he pounded into her. The last time he'd had a pussy like this, he'd been twenty and all alone in Paris when a familiar busty redhead had deemed it necessary to spill an expensive glass of wine on his pants. It had all been part of her plan, of course, since he was a well-known socialite — a Cullen, no less.

Edward's father hadn't known what to do when all the pictures and then the videos had come out. The redhead had completely disappeared. Edward liked to believe she was off somewhere living the life of luxury, but with his father, there was no telling. Poison in her drink, or a well-placed piece of rancid food was more his style. Edward hadn't really thought about her since then, and he knew he wouldn't think about Honey after he was finished.

While keeping Honey's hands tethered to the bed, Bella untied her legs, and Edward swiftly turned her onto her stomach before entering her from behind. She moaned again, and Edward sped up, causing the bed to creak along with him. He didn't really care how much noise he made. This was just the beginning.

By morning, Edward had fucked Honey in every possible way he knew of, and she was unquestionably exhausted from their bed-creaking session. Bella gave her another dose of pills that put her to sleep, and while Edward took a shower, Honey was also cleaned, with the sheets beneath her being shoved in a trash bag to be thrown away as far from the motel as possible. She left Honey on the tiny mattress naked, and when Edward emerged from the bathroom in fresh clothes, he was surprised to see Bella tying her back down.

"That's a little excessive, don't you think?" he asked as he pulled on his cuff links. "She's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Better to make it difficult for her to run for help before we're far away from here," Bella reasoned. "Now let's go."

Edward gazed at Honey's naked body feeling a little conflicted. He didn't really think it was necessary, but he decided he couldn't really care . All he really cared about was doing as he pleased for as long as he could before he returned to his father where he knew everyone would expect him to do what they wanted. Edward hated his father's life, and he'd be damned if he was going to accept it without a fight.

The car they'd stolen would have to be disposed of, but that was just a detail. Edward would call ahead to one of his father's drivers in California to meet him somewhere his father would be unaware of for now. Beyond that, he was hungry and in need of some breakfast.

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><p><strong>These Days.<strong>

Carlisle Cullen had never seen his youngest son so desperate. On a good day, Edward was disrespectful, callous and rebellious, but never desperate. Although with the way his son had turned up on his doorstep two days earlier, Carlisle wasn't surprised. The young woman he'd brought home with him had been nearly hysterical when Carlisle had tried to talk to her, but in the last few days, she had become more responsive. It was quite clear that while Edward was culpable in her kidnapping and probably her rape, he had not laid a finger on her in order to beat her, and the bruises and cuts on her back and stomach had been the result of a relentless beating. The words carved into her arm were evidence enough of a deranged and unstable mind. Carlisle knew it wasn't his son.

Frankly, Edward was lucky that he hadn't already been hauled off to jail, but after a plea to his father, he was sitting in an interrogation room in the local police precinct. He'd asked to see the young woman with him several times, but under the circumstances, Carlisle had advised against it. She was still recovering, and above everything else, Carlisle wanted her healed and clear-headed before his son saw her — if he saw her at all.

"Mr. Cullen," the police chief called, bringing Carlisle's attention to him immediately.

"Yes, Mr. Uley."

The tall, dark-haired man grimaced at Carlisle and glanced into the room where Edward was sitting alone. "We can't hold him in there much longer," he told Carlisle. "After everything he confessed to, he's lucky the DA hasn't hung him."

Carlisle turned to look at his son. "Yes, I know," he acknowledged. "But until I'm certain he won't harm himself, I don't want him in a place where he could have access to sharp objects. Have you been looking for the accomplice?"

"We've heard from a few precincts in the area where he says everything happened," was the slightly annoyed reply. "Nothing significant. Mr. Cullen — "

"Sam, my son didn't do this by himself," Carlisle stated plainly, turning to the chief with a measure of determination in his brilliant blue eyes. "I want her found. And when you find her, I want to talk to her — before anyone else. I know Mr. Denali wants more than what he's gotten, but if Edward didn't act alone, then he shouldn't have to take the full punishment for this on his own. You know my terms. And besides, I'm more equipped to deal with him than some high security penitentiary where the guards won't ever give him a fair deal. And you know that as well."

Sam bowed his head. "Mr. Denali will have to get a judge to sign off on it," he said of Carlisle's plea bargain which included minimal jail time, possible community service and full disclosure of the involvement of his accomplice. "It'll be another day."

"Fine, then," Carlisle nodded. "I'm taking him home. Whether he likes it or not."

For a moment, it seemed like Sam would stop him, but he stepped aside, and Carlisle opened the door to the interrogation room where Edward was sitting handcuffed to the table.

"Edward," he said, and his son looked up. His auburn hair was even more disheveled than usual. He hadn't shaved in four days. His green-gold eyes were blood-shot, and the visible part of his face was flushed red. He didn't look like he'd eaten in at least a day. Carlisle was going to fix that as soon as they got to the house. He extended his arm. "Come on, son. You're coming home."

The young man didn't hesitate, but he was halted by the hand cuffs until another police officer came in to un-cuff him from the table. Edward didn't say anything or look at anyone, allowing his father to walk him out of the room as Sam watched with furrowed eyebrows. No one stopped Carlisle as he guided his son out of the police precinct to a car waiting for them on the curb. Carlisle nodded to the driver as he opened the door.

"Thank you, Felix," he said graciously.

Edward slid into the car silently, and Carlisle followed him, allowing Felix to shut the door. Once they were alone, Carlisle closed the glass between them and Felix, turning to his son and speaking resolutely.

"You want to protect this girl, don't you?" he asked Edward.

Still silently, Edward fidgeted steadily with his eyes on his hands.

"Edward — "

"Of course I do," Edward whispered softly.

Carlisle scooted closer, turning Edward to face him. "Then for the love of God, don't protect the person who helped you do this. Clearly, you care nothing for her, or you wouldn't have brought this girl she harmed home. What does she know about you that's preventing you from talking?"

Still fidgeting, Edward lifted his eyes to the window separating them from Felix. "Enough," he replied blankly.

Carlisle sighed heavily, sitting back as they pulled through town to the outskirts of Chicago toward their home. He didn't say anything else to his son, but later on, he would find out everything needed to keep Edward from going to prison for his discrepancies.

The sprawling fifty-acre Cullen Estate was occupied by three residences, the main one being where most of the family stayed. Each estate had separate staff to keep everything in order. Carlisle had hand-selected every employee, and since Edward's graduation, he'd separated most of the men and women to work in different estates at different times. He hadn't been in the mood to deal with fraternization between employees even if he knew it happened, and so far, none of his employees had crossed that line — on the job anyway.

The new butler Riley and two of the maids, Angela and Victoria were waiting when Felix pulled up the drive, and as soon as the car stopped, the doors to the back were opened for Edward and Carlisle to get out. Angela helped Edward inside, and Victoria took all of Carlisle's office belongings while Riley pulled bags from the trunk. They were inside the house within a minute of pulling into the driveway. Before Angela could get too far with Edward, Carlisle called her back to where he'd stopped in the foyer to check his messages.

"I don't want Edward going to the west wing," Carlisle told Angela. "I need him bathed and changed before I talk to him in my study. And make sure you don't linger too long," he warned. "I want him clear-headed."

Angela blushed, bowing her head as stray strands of her dark-brown hair fell in her brown eyes. "Yes, Mr. Cullen, sir."

She rejoined Edward on the stairs then, guiding them on upstairs while Carlisle had most of his things taken to his study.

"Carlisle, are you home?" his wife Esme called from the dining room.

Instead of sitting in his study, Carlisle followed her voice, discovering her and Rosalie setting the dinner table with their best Wedgwood dinnerware. He smiled when he saw her, and then she looked up. Her caramel curls billowed softly over her shoulders, and the twinkle in her hazel eyes caused Carlisle to remember when he'd first met her. Esme's smile faded when she noticed her husband's strained face, and she moved to his side slowly.

"How is he?" she asked.

Carlisle encircled her waist gently, allowing his hand to settle low on her hip. "He's about the same as he was when he came back. I asked Angela to get him cleaned up. I might go up there to get him for dinner if I must, but I hope I don't have to."

"Did he say anything about her?" Esme asked about the young woman her son had shown up with nearly two days earlier.

"No," Carlisle shook his head. "But it's clear he didn't intend to harm her as much as she was. He's been so lost lately. I never thought it would lead to this, but now that it has, we'll all have to deal with it."

"Well, if you ask me," Rosalie interrupted, "it's about time he owned up for the shit he's been pulling the last few years, not the just the last few days."

Esme frowned at her daughter. "Rosalie, please watch your language. Your brother's been through enough."

"Which he brought on himself," Rosalie argued.

"Edward is misguided," Carlisle interjected. "I won't make him pay for being led down the wrong path by an unbalanced woman so cruel to do such a thing to another human being. Rosalie, Edward needs your support, not your sharp tongue."

Rosalie slung her long, wavy blond hair over her shoulder and, with a glint in her deep blue eyes, disappeared into the kitchen where dinner was being prepared by the cooking staff. It was common for her to oversee everything as it was simply her way, and now that Edward was back in the house, Esme had requested to have all her youngest son's favorite foods on the menu. Rosalie begrudgingly made sure nothing was burned or undercooked, but only because she would have to eat what they made along with her brother.

Once Rosalie was gone, Esme lifted her eyes to Carlisle's. "How bad is it?" she asked of the charges brought on by the police commissioner and the Executive DA in the city, who also happened to be a close family friend.

Carlisle exhaled, still rubbing her hip. "Well, rape, kidnaping, aggravated assault, sexual assault and attempted manslaughter," he listed the charges softly and with a pained look on his face. "Eleazar is asking for the maximum on everything unless an accomplice can be produced, but even then, he's only willing to take the attempted manslaughter off the table. Demetri and Heidi are looking into every possible motion they can to prevent prison time. Our boy is in a world of trouble, my dear. He's got a long road ahead of him, and he's barely out of college. I don't understand what I've done to cause him so much . . . anguish. I know he didn't like all the responsibility, but I wasn't expecting _this_."

Esme laid a hand over Carlisle's chest, close to his heart. "He's a free spirit, sweetheart," she lamented. "Much like his father at that age. He might need a lecture, Carlisle. But he also needs advice. And I don't mean from the CEO in the family. But from his father."

Carlisle smiled then, lifting his free hand to hers and then subtly easing his palm from her hip to her round bottom. Esme laughed softly, leaning in closer to kiss her husband.

"Ahem!" Jasper called from the entrance to the dining room.

They both turned to see him there with his fiancé Alice, and Esme stepped away from Carlisle to greet her eldest son, who was also Rosalie's twin brother. Jasper took his mother in one arm while still holding Alice's hand, and Esme kissed his cheek before moving to hug Alice.

"It's so wonderful to see you again," Esme exclaimed as she pulled away from Alice. "I was wondering when Jasper would bring you back around. It's been almost a month, hasn't it?"

Alice blushed slightly, glancing at Jasper and speaking with a smile. "Well, it wasn't entirely his fault. I had extended fashion calls in Tokyo and Paris, and honestly those models would all be lost without me. I was actually surprised to see him in Tokyo. He sticks out like a sore thumb," she teased, holding his hand tighter and laughing softly when Jasper leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Only for you," he assured her.

Alice sighed, content, and then Esme spoke.

"Why don't you go into the kitchen to check on Rosalie?" she suggested to Alice. "I'm sure she'll love to see you after so long."

Alice bowed her head then, the sleek strands of her chin-length chestnut locks shaping her face easily. She turned her brilliant green eyes to Jasper for a quick two or three seconds before stepping off to the right to find Rosalie.

The moment Alice was gone, Jasper lowered his voice to his father. "Has he said anything about his accomplice?" he asked, his voice tight as he shifted his eyes from the kitchen entry to his father's face.

Carlisle took Esme in his arm again. "Only that she knows enough about his transgressions to make this worse for him," he told Jasper. "And he refuses to even give me a name. I know it was a woman who helped him, but I can't do anything to find her. Edward would only allow so many people to see him so vulnerable."

Jasper's face turned thoughtful, and his hazel eyes that mirrored his mother's became even more resolute than his father's. Carlisle released Esme to the kitchen so he could be alone with his oldest son.

"What do you know?" he asked Jasper.

"It's probably nothing," his eldest son insisted with a shake of his head and the wavy blond hair framing his face as it barely grazed his shirt collar.

Carlisle stepped in closer, lowering his voice even more. "If you're thinking of it now with all of this going on, then something I've said must have caused you to think of it. Jasper, tell me."

Jasper bowed his head, speaking softly. "A few days before Edward came home, I called him. And he was in Las Vegas. He was with Isabella Swan."

Confusion knitted Carlisle's eyebrows. "That girl he met in Los Angeles?" he inquired.

"The same. And I can't be sure, but I had a gut feeling he was doing something stupid. I don't know what exactly, but he was with her when he did it. And we know now the police found that woman from Las Vegas in a motel just across the California border. Even if she's not talking, are we sure it _wasn't _him?"

Carlisle bowed his head again, his confusion slowly turning to anger as he remembered the night his son had met that girl. Despite her parents being relatively wealthy, Isabella Swan was nowhere near Edward's station, and Carlisle had been working for months to set his son up with a nice girl. Isabella Swan was not a nice girl, and Carlisle didn't like her.

The first time Carlisle had seen Isabella Swan, she'd been necking with a man twice her age who also happened to have a wife and two children around her age. She hadn't been shy about it at all. It infuriated Carlisle that Isabella had somehow enticed his son to possibly do something so horrible.

"Father," Jasper said still softly. "If Edward was with her a few days before he came back, is it possible she was with him the whole time?"

Before Carlisle could say anything else, his cell phone rang, and Jasper bowed his head again, stepping away from his father and into the kitchen with the rest of his family. As soon as Jasper was gone, Carlisle answered his phone.

"This is Carlisle."

"Mr. Cullen," his publicist Aro greeted. "It's imperative I meet with you. There's been a development."

Carlisle sighed heavily, turning his eyes to the ceiling and then moving out of the dining room to make his way upstairs. "We're all about to eat dinner," he told Aro. "Come by at nine o'clock," he commanded.

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><p><strong>Well, what do you think? I don't usually ask for reviews, but if you'll tell me what you think, I'll send you a spoiler for the next chapter. <strong>

**Pretty please?**

***peeking from behind hands to look at how many people I've offended or shocked*  
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	2. Hard Exterior

**Okay, here we go with Chapter 2. The response so far has been really good. Thanks to my reviewers and readers.**

**Now, for the heavy stuff. Serious warnings here for anyone not able to vote and drink and generally do all kinds of adult things. Not trying to bring anybody down here, but I gotta say it. Again, this isn't your typical Edward/Bella stuff. If any of this isn't your cup of tea, sorry. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

**And thanks to S.R. Devastate for beta-ing. She keeps my eyes open and on the ball!  
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**I hope everyone who reads enjoys.  
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><p><strong>Hard Exterior<strong>

**Back then.**

The back seat of a limousine speeding through the desert back to Las Vegas was as good a place as any for Edward to release some built-up tension with Bella.

"Bella, we should do something about this long drive, don't you think?" he inquired, reaching for her waist and pulling her closer to him.

The smile on her face was easy to identify. She dropped her sandals in the floor less than a second before straddling his lap and kissing him deeply like she had the night before with Honey.

Edward pulled her shirt off, facing her black lace bra and leaning in to nip his teeth at her neck. He glanced around her, and she followed his gaze before she gripped his shirt in her hands and ripped it open. Buttons flew everywhere, and she raked her fingernails down his chest to his waist where his pants prevented her from getting what she obviously wanted. She ground her hips into his, and he flattened his palms over her bottom, rubbing her through her shorts and then slapping her ass.

Breath hitched in her throat, and she looked at him with a glare in her eyes. But then she smiled and ground herself into him again, eliciting a stronger reaction from his loins.

"You're being bad, Edward Cullen," she chastised. "You'll have to pay for that later."

Edward grinned at her, palming her perky breasts through her bra and then easily ripping it off. He glanced at the label inside and smirked. _La Perla_.

"My mother bought that for me," Bella complained, smiling.

Edward smirked. "I'll replace it," he promised, leaning forward and attacking her nipples as they waited for him. He latched onto the first one eagerly, having not done so since laying with Honey in the hotel they'd left her inside, but this time was different because he was with Bella. Once her nipple was sufficiently hardened, Edward bit down on it a little less than gently.

Bella screamed, digging her fingernails into his arms but doing nothing to stop him. He moved on to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment as he unbuttoned her shorts and yanked them off as roughly as he could. The black lace panties covering her were easy to get rid of, and within minutes of him propositioning her, she was naked.

He didn't give her time to do anything else to him, grabbing her hands and then her arms to hold them above her head. She shifted her hips around, pulling on her hands but unable to get them free. Edward grinned wickedly, lowering his mouth to her nipples again to continue his tirade on her body.

"Edward," she groaned. "Harder."

With the window closed between them and the driver, Edward gladly spread Bella out in the floor without caring if they were seen or heard. He pulled his belt off, wrapping it around her wrists and clasping them together while he still held them tightly. She panted heavily, watching him lower his fingers to the center of her body, but unlike Honey, Bella didn't do anything to stop him, thrusting her hips forward to encourage him.

"Come on, that's it," she grit out through her clenched teeth.

He drew out moisture from within her easily, spreading it around her folds and then thrusting his fingers inside her roughly still. He stroked her clitoris furiously, and she arched her back sharply.

"Edward," she shrieked, still shifting her hips and curling her toes.

He leaned down close to her ear and whispered with a ragged breath. "Yeah, you like that, don't you?" he taunted.

She nodded frantically. "Yes!"

He removed his fingers from her swiftly, and she whined from the retreat even as she lowered her eyes to watch him unbutton his pants. He was already hard through her frenzied movements, and before he pulled his pants down, he flipped Bella onto her stomach, feeling her struggle to stay on her knees. She tried to pull her hands from the belt restraining them but couldn't. Edward gripped the hair at the back of her head and growled at her.

"Stay still, whore," he ordered.

He spread her knees apart, pushing his pants down and then stroking Bella angrily until she was whimpering beneath him.

"You want more?" he demanded, still clenching her hair in his fist.

"Ah! Yes! Now, damn it!"

He didn't wait, readying his hard cock at her waiting pussy and slamming into her as hard as he could even with the car still moving.

She didn't mind either, allowing him to do whatever he wanted as long as he fucked her hard and left his mark on her. Her resistance increased as he began stroking her clitoris roughly, and she tried to rise up to her elbows again. He yanked her head back then, speeding up and pushing her chest to the floor so she couldn't move.

"Shit, Edward! Fuck me harder, asshole!"

He did so gladly, lowering his eyes to her ass and steadying himself on his own elbows as he whole body now covered hers.

She was closer to a masochist than any girl Edward had ever known. Or was she a sadist? He'd never known a girl like her in the few years he'd been trying out the ones his father hated.

In a moving car, the action of having sex was interesting. Edward reveled in the way the car's vibrations made the inside of Bella's body clench down over every inch of him.

"This is fucking amazing," he chuckled in her ear sinfully.

The first time he'd felt anything so intense, he'd been bedding a strawberry blond introduced to him by a friend in college. Her name had been Tanya Something, and she hadn't been his usual fare. For the first time since he'd graduated college he'd met someone who was very adventurous. Edward had tried more new positions that night than he'd thought possible. It had become obvious to him that she'd been with a few other men. When she'd moaned about how it was different without her usual toys, Edward had finally realized he was far from her first and quite possibly the second or third she'd had that week. Of course, he'd left her the following morning, and he hadn't seen her since. She wasn't his father's typical idea of a good woman. Edward couldn't have agreed less, but at the time, he'd only wanted to dare his father's anger — not actually be on the receiving end of it.

Bella moaned loud then, bringing Edward back into the present.

"Harder, Edward!" she commanded.

He sped up in response, slamming into her harder and surely leaving burns on her knees while he pushed her to her elbows on the limousine floor and slammed her from behind.

"Shit!" she yelled.

The bumpy road spurred Edward on, and he gripped her hair tighter than usual while still pounding away at her. She was the only girl he'd ever met who liked it rough just about every time she got it.

It was a relief not having to be gentle or careful. Still, there was something to be said for a little tender care. It was obviously lost on Bella, but light caresses and soft kisses reminded Edward of simpler times. They were things he would always look back on and yearn for.

He'd been nineteen then and only just realizing how much control his father had over his life. He'd done the only thing he could at the time, taking something from someone close to him he knew he had to right to have. She'd been his first choice — the one he'd used to begin his own rebellion against his father. While he hadn't meant for her to feel anything for him, it had inevitably happened. She'd changed him as well — made him someone other people had learned to manipulate. And he couldn't be that to the outside world.

She'd been younger than him, and in many ways, it had prevented him from truly harming her. When he'd left to go to college, she'd been the only constant in his life, but over time, as he came home less and less, she became the only reminder of what he could've done with his life. And for that reason, she would always be where she was, and he would always know where to find her. But he'd lost his innocence a long time before her. He hadn't been naive in years. And because of his father's control, he never would be again.

By the time the car pulled back into Las Vegas, Bella was still sprawled out on the floor, and they were watching the light through the sky-roof of the car, lying naked with their clothes crumpled on the seat beside them. It was nearly three o'clock now and sunny. Soon, the Strip would be alive with tourists and mobsters.

"We should fuck again," Bella announced, moving to straddle Edward, ready for another round.

"We need a little money first, Bella," Edward informed her. "And I know just the place.

"Where are we going?"

"The Bellagio would be perfect for a first hit."

It looked like she would agree with him as they began redressing, but Bella apparently had other ideas after her clothes were in place.

"Hey, could you stop here?" she demanded from the driver at a convenient store just outside the city.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, confused.

She grinned manically. "Wait here," she commanded, grabbing her jacket and shoving the car door open. Dry, Nevada heat drifted into the car in the few seconds the door was thrown open. Edward couldn't understand why she needed a jacket.

Edward watched her go inside before pulling out his phone.

"Bellagio Hotel and Casino?" a delicate, airy voice answered.

"I need to make reservations for the night," he ordered.

He was finished before she came outside. Edward looked at his watch, noticing that almost ten minutes had gone by. He opened the car door and stepped out just as she came running out with her jacket and a plastic bag.

"Bella," he called, unaware of why she was running despite the grin on her face.

"Get in the car," she shouted, shoving him inside and slamming the door shut. "Step on it!" she called up to the driver.

The driver gave her an aggravated glare.

"Move!" she shouted.

After a few seconds, he complied.

Gears shifted with an angry growl, and Bella laughed loudly.

"What just happened?" Edward demanded, eyeing Bella reproachfully. "What took you so long?"

The tires of the limousine squealed as they pulled back onto the freeway into the city. Immediately, Bella produced a small handgun to Edward's astonished eyes.

"Bella," he shouted. "What the fuck did you just do?"

She opened the plastic bag, dumped it into the floor of the limousine and revealed nearly four hundred dollars from its interior. Edward couldn't believe what he saw. He couldn't believe what this meant.

"Bella," he gasped, reaching for her and pulling her into the seat next to him. "Did you just — knock over a convenient store?" he asked incredulously.

"You said we needed money," she argued.

"Yes," he agreed. His forehead creased in confusion, and his eyebrows knit together in stunned anger. What was she thinking? "From my credit account," he clarified with pleading eyes.

"If you do that, won't your fucker of a father know what we're doing?" she exclaimed. "How are we supposed to do this if we play by your twisted sense of _appropriateness_?"

Edward lowered his eyes to the money on the floor. This wasn't what he had in mind when he'd decided to go on this rebellious rampage. It was a spur of the moment trip, yes, but if the convenient store clerk saw her, surely they would call the police. Wasn't the point of doing something like that getting away so the police couldn't follow?

She saw the exasperated look on his flushed face, and she groaned through clenched teeth, raking her fingers through her long brown hair and pressing the heels of her hands into her eye sockets.

"You are so — You said we needed money," she said again, her voice edged with anger.

Edward relaxed his face, shutting his eyes. He let go of her slowly, easing his fingers through his own auburn hair. He loosened his neck tie and straightened his jacket "I said that," he agreed. "It's all right. We'll park the car after we get to the hotel."

Bella huffed, sitting back and folding her arms over her chest.

She hadn't behaved this way in the few months they'd known each other. Edward had never seen this side of her and didn't know how to handle it. Bella had been the kind of girl who would punch you in the arm and call you a pussy for whining about it. But then she would always promise to make up for it later with a treat. There was no treat this time.

He eyed her curiously, calling up to the driver. "After you drop us off at the hotel, find a parking garage, Charles," he ordered. "Then you can have the night off. But keep your cell on you."

"Yes, Mr. Cullen, sir."

It was easy enough to "dispose" of the car while keeping the driver on call if Edward needed him.

In the mid-afternoon sun, the beige-white stone of the Bellagio Hotel turned into an ivory tower. The front entryway of the hotel wasn't completely crowded, and the glass awning allowed the brilliant yellow light of the day to illuminate the paved drive below it. Only a few cars were parked there, and even fewer valets waited for new drivers. The temperature didn't seem as bad under the awning when Edward emerged from the car, but it was still hot.

Edward took stock of Bella as she emerged from the car. Her too-short denim shorts rode too high but offered only a brief distraction from her horribly orange shirt, tied at her waist and exposing the flat plains of her stomach and a small belly-button piercing. She looked like a sixteen-year-old prostitute straight out of a cheap novel. With her hair pulled up into a mess on her head, she couldn't have looked more out of place. Edward decided they would stop at a clothing store inside before making their way up to their room. First, they had to check in.

The woman at the counter gave Bella an unsatisfied expression, and much to Edward's dismay, it set his partner off immediately.

"Do you have a problem, nosy bitch?" she demanded.

Her voice echoed off the marble floor of the guest check-in area.

The woman's hazel eyes widened, and her cheeks darkened. "Ma'am?"

Bella scoffed. "Yeah, I see you sneering. Based on how I'm dressed, you probably don't think I belong in a place like this, or with a guy like him." She gestured to Edward as he watched, horrified. "But since I'm on this side of the counter, and you're back there, maybe you should keep you fucking opinions to yourself. Got it?" Then she pointed to the woman's nametag and added, "Serena."

Mouth hung open, the woman gawked at Bella, dropping her eyes and clearing her throat softly. "Yes, ma'am."

Bella scoffed a second time, turning to leave, and Edward discreetly pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, sliding it across the counter.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She bowed her head, taking the money and continuing in her duties.

Edward guided Bella from the check-in area, whispering urgently. "Are you seriously losing your mind?" he demanded. "Now, when someone asks if they saw you, she'll have to say 'yes.' And she might even tell them what you were wearing and what you said."

Bella pulled away from Edward, lifting furious brown eyes to him. "And?" she spat.

"This was supposed to be _our_ idea, remember?" he reminded her. "And now you're pulling stunts. So some bitch at the check-in counter looks at you funny. So what? Remember what we're here to do. We have to be invisible up to the last minute — when stopping us becomes impossible."

She snorted, her nostrils flaring slightly, but then dropped her eyes, her arms still folded over her chest. "Fine," she griped.

He nodded. "Good. Now, we need to find you something more appropriate to wear," he informed her. "And I would appreciate as little resistance as possible. Please." He lifted his eyebrows, appealing earnestly.

Edward extended his hand to her, and after a few more tense seconds, she allowed him to pull her away from the crowd of people entering the hotel.

The Bellagio offered a wide variety of shops, but Edward only wanted a few outfits for Bella, so he chose the store he was most familiar with because of his mother — Gucci. Bella had admitted upon meeting Edward that in the ten years her parents had lived in Los Angeles, she'd never been anywhere expensive or high fashion. With the desire to stave off giving in to her parents' new life, she'd always tried thrift shops and "hip" stores before even considering setting foot on Rodeo Drive. Edward was surprised at her stalwartness, but luckily for her, he was accustomed to shopping in the outrageously expensive shops.

When the saleswoman came out, Edward told her exactly what he wanted without hesitating.

"I need an asymmetrical strapless satin dress in red," he requested, then pointing to another piece nearby, "this short v-neck silk dress with the short sleeves in the black, and the leather-trimmed stretch-crepe dress in cream. All in a size four, please. I also want the studded platform sandals in black and in a size seven."

With a slight blush in her cheeks, the woman glanced at Bella. "Will you be purchasing any other accessories today?"

Edward looked at Bella, observing her. "Yes, actually, a Broadway Evening bag in the black snake skin."

There was only a small hesitation, but as Edward watched her, she moved around the store to find what he'd asked for and then gestured toward the dressing rooms as they set empty. She unlocked a room laden in reds and pinks, motioning for them to go in.

"Please. And don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

Edward smiled broadly, his lips pressed together. "Thank you."

She left, and Edward closed Bella inside with her clothes and shoes.

"You're seriously messed up," Bella teased. "I blame your sister."

"And yet, I've benefitted from it for a very long time. Now, go try on the clothes."

With an exasperated roll of her eyes, Bella complied.

After fifteen minutes, she was complaining, and in less time than Edward had expected.

"I hate this," she fussed from inside an ornate changing room while trying on the few pieces she'd been given.

"It'll help you blend in, Bella," he promised only half a minute before she opened the door and glared at him with nothing but her panties and a bra covering her.

Edward realized just by the look on her face that she wasn't going to give in so easily. "All right," he conceded. "Wait right here. I think I know of a way to help."

He left swiftly, stepping out into the store to find a few outfits for himself. He chose a new dinner jacket as well as a few shirts in the event he needed them. He returned to her dressing room, knocking and waiting.

"What?" she snapped.

He laughed. "Open the door," he requested.

She unlocked the door handle, pushing the door out and lifting her stunned eyes to him. He slung his clothes over his shoulder and then joined her in the changing room.

Bella smiled mischievously. "What about the saleswoman?" she whispered.

"She's helping another customer," he promised. He showed Bella the clothes he'd selected for himself. "So what do you think? Should I try these on?"

Bella perked up more than marginally. Her eyes lit up instantly, and her lips turned up into an easy smile.

She didn't have to say anything else, taking the clothes to hang them up and then turning to face him.

"You're horrible," she teased, unbuttoning his shirt to pull it out of his pants. She leaned up to kiss him and shoved the shirt off his shoulders.

"I'm trying to keep you appeased," he amended. "Is it working?"

She licked his neck, unfastening his pants and pushing them off. No more words left her mouth.

Once she had him in his underwear, she appeared to take pride in disrobing Edward to his skin. Edward couldn't say he didn't like it, but it unnerved him to have to do this. Bella was behaving so different. How were they supposed to pull this off if she kept this up?

He understood she knew little about appearance and behavior, but in his world, it was the only thing that set him apart from everyone else. The idea was to _not_ draw attention to oneself, but with Bella, it was all she seemed to want. Edward didn't know how to impress upon her the importance of having the right attitude. It was sad that he thought that way, but for him, it was the truth.

"I've never spent this much money on clothes in my life," Bella still complained as they left the changing room slowly.

"You'll put them to good use," Edward assured her.

"Well, if I have to wear these, then you have to buy at least one suit," she countered. "We didn't try on those things for nothing, you know."

"I don't need them," he shrugged.

She stopped in front of him, facing him with a defiant, if not triumphant glint in her eye. "Edward," she encouraged. "Come on. Three for one. It's a fire sale!'

He hesitated, wanting to appear indifferent about the prospect. But he admired her tenacity. "All right," he conceded. "One."

She turned on her heel, leading the way to the front of the store.

After Gucci, Edward stopped by Tiffany's, wanting to find Bella something elegant to go with her clothes.

"You'll need jewelry," he informed her.

"I've never been to Tiffany's," she admitted.

To that, Edward smiled and pulled her through the jewelry store to a display case in the back. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" he teased.

Edward gave Bella a little freedom, allowing her to browse through a more modern collection of sterling silver pieces. He browsed himself, finding himself in front of the 1837 collection case.

He paused there longer than he should have. His mother loved their rose gold, and he saw a bracelet she would adore. It was simple — two interlocking bangles wrapped around each other effortlessly. The silver bangle and the rose bangle combined two opposing sides. It very much reminded him of his mother.

Edward shook his head, turning from the case. The last time he'd been to Tiffany's with his mother, she'd been buying a gift for a friend. He'd wandered off, and when she'd found him, she'd nearly slapped him and screamed at him to never do it again. After that day, he hadn't gone back to that store with her even if she hadn't been like that since. She'd tried to make up for it, but in the end, it hadn't mattered. And he didn't have time to be sentimental now.

"Hey," Bella called from where she was still standing.

Edward broke himself from the intense sadness, returning to Bella's side as she watched him.

Instead of commenting on his expression, she proclaimed, "I love these."

Edward lowered his eyes to the case, seeing an assortment of Atlas bracelets, necklaces and earrings. He could see how she would appreciate the style and appeal of this particular collection. It was modern, rigid and otherwise unyielding — a lot like Bella.

Bella pointed out a few pieces, and Edward agreed.

"They'll go well with your clothes," he nodded.

The saleswoman practically copied the girl at the check-in counter, eyeing Bella strangely, but it didn't get a rise out of her this time — to Edward's immense relief.

"Have a wonderful evening," she smiled at Edward as she handed him his purchase.

He grinned back, pursing his lips. "I will," he persisted.

With clothes and accessories in hand, Edward eased his arm around Bella's waist, leaving the store and guiding her through the hotel to the elevator that would take them to the room he'd reserved.

Somewhere between the lobby and their suite, something set Bella off her good mood, and she pushed Edward away halfway up to their room.

"You can't break your mold," Bella stated annoyingly as they rode the elevator. "You have to do something to feel normal, don't you?"

"Excuse me?" he retorted.

She didn't look at him. "I saw the look on your face when you were in that jewelry store," she accused. "Who was it this time? Your bitch sister or your mommy?"

Edward stood up straighter, towering over her. "My mother," he stated plainly.

She scoffed. "And again, I say, your mold."

"The same can be said of you," he shot back. "Is it not too much to ask for you to behave inconspicuously? At least _before_ we hit the casino."

"And exactly what is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, her eyes wide with anger.

"I guess it was your plan to drag me into your dressing room while we were in an expensive store where it was clear someone could've seen or heard us," he spat. "Hating to shop in one and loving to play around in one because you're being stubborn don't usually go together, Bella."

For another minute, she glared at him. It looked like she might try to continue her rant. But thankfully, she stopped just as the elevator doors arrived on the floor of their suite.

Bella snorted, still holding her arms over her chest. "Whatever, your Highness."

Edward only smirked.

The Penthouse Suite was waiting for them when the elevator doors opened. Upon entering the main living area, they were greeted by the hotel's own classically-themed furniture with a couch and several arm chairs surrounding a wide-screen LCD tv set. The dining area was directly behind it, and Bella immediately made her way to the window that overlooked the front of the hotel. Edward saw the annoyance she'd had only moments earlier disappear immediately, and he was relieved. He could see she was pleased with the room despite not appreciating his way of doing things. Edward pulled Bella away from the open living/dining area, which was illuminated by mid-afternoon sunlight, before he moved toward her separate bedroom and bathroom.

"Do you like it?" he asked even though he knew the answer.

"It's not what I was expecting," she admitted.

The door to her room opened silently, and her smile widened when she saw the bed.

"Exactly what were you expecting?" he inquired.

She glanced around the bedroom. "Less frilly shit," she noted. "More art deco crap. Isn't this hotel really old?"

Edward laughed softly. "No," he corrected. "But the decor is somewhat outdated if you ask me."

He glanced back through the bedroom door, making note of the room. Even from where he was, he saw pinks, browns, cremes and frilly cushions — luxury ten years ago.

"You change," he requested with a smile.

Her smile faded slightly, but she took her new clothes from him.

Edward carried his own clothes across the suite, hanging them in his bathroom. After depositing those, he made himself comfortable at the wet bar.

Bella was right about one thing. This felt normal to him. It always would no matter what he did with her.

In an overt way, Bella made it clear that it wasn't normal for her.

While Bella was changing, Edward ordered room service, and a rather cute red head brought their lunch to the room with an especially brilliant, teasing smile on her face and a twinkle in her lively brown eyes.

"Good afternoon, sir," she greeted easing the cart into the room. "I have two Seafood on Ice platters for you. Where would you like it?"

Edward smiled at her wording, but he laughed, gesturing to the dining table. "Over here is good," he requested, noticing her name tag.

"Erin," he said, and she looked at him while setting the trays on the table. He pointed to her left lapel. "Your name."

She smiled, biting her lip. "Yes, sir."

"It's very pretty."

She blushed deeply. "Thank you."

He thought about how much she reminded him of a maid in his house. Suddenly he was thinking of his father and what he would think.

Of course, he would be pissed. He wasn't the kind of man who appreciated leaving the real world behind every now and then. At least, he didn't appreciate it anymore. It was nothing new to Edward. Then he knew it didn't matter now. For now, he was on a schedule.

It was important for him to not stray too far from Bella or rather, not allow her to stray too far from him. The closer to him she was, the less trouble she was likely to get into. At least, that was his hope.

"Will you be needing anything else, sir?" Erin asked once she was finished putting the food on the table.

He lifted his eyes to hers, knowing it wouldn't be a good idea for her to be in the room when Bella came out. "No," he said, taking another hundred-dollar bill from his pocket. "Thank you."

He lifted it to her dainty hand, sending on her way with a crooked grin and a wink. She took the bill, allowing her fingers to brush his and then turning to leave.

He turned to the table to open the bottle of wine accompanying their food.

"Bella!" Edward summoned. "Surely it's not taking you so long to put on an outfit you just tried on."

There was a moment of silence, and then he heard her come out of the bedroom. "I really don't think any of this looks good on me," she announced.

He lifted his eyes to her side of the room only to find her naked as she leaned against the bathroom door.

She grinned, planting her hand over her bare hip.

Edward felt a twitch in his pants. His breath caught in his throat, but he remained cool nonetheless, moving across the room to her side.

He towered over her easily. Bella licked her lips as he lowered his hands to her hips and turned her back to the bathroom. She huffed loudly despite offering little resistance as he stepped into the bathroom with her and shut the door. He looked at all three of her new outfits, seeing the cut and style of each and deciding which would look best on her. It didn't feel strange for him at all, especially with Rosalie for a sister and Alice attached to Jasper's hip. The outfit came out of the garment bag exquisitely, and he turned to her with it perched on his fingers. Her jaw was already set hard, her eyes indignant.

"You'll wear this one," he instructed. "While you very well might know your own style, this is for a different occasion. I need you to blend in. Otherwise, the security guards will have their eye on you the minute you step into the casino. You want to succeed, yes?"

Bella huffed, laying her hands over her hips again as she still stood there naked. "Yes," she scoffed.

Edward smiled. "Good. Change. Then come out, and we'll eat lunch. I have a few connections in the city, and I can locate a few choice clients you might be interested in. All right?"

Her eyes lit up instantly. She took the dress he'd selected for her, automatically knowing which shoes to wear and beginning to dress before Edward had a chance to leave the bathroom. He wanted a clear head. Bella needed one as well.

For a moment, he allowed his eyes to travel the slim planes of her back and then her legs. He noted how slender her body really was. Though she was on the slightly too-slender side, she made up for it in her attitude. Edward didn't usually say it about women, but Bella had _cojones_.

Edward left the bathroom slowly, returned to the living room and then sat in the dining room where their food set. He actually hadn't eaten since breakfast. Now that it was nearly four in the afternoon, he was rather hungry. Surely, Bella had to be hungry along with him — for something other than his body. He admitted to himself it was easier to help himself to her the way he had in the limousine earlier than go ahead in this crazy plan they'd envisioned.

_Was it really worth it?_ he thought.

Edward was a more-than-capable poker player — he'd known how to play since the age of fifteen.

"Now," Bella said as she came into the dining room clasping an earring in place to complete the ensemble of a short black silk dress and black four-inch heels. "Is this more to your liking?" she asked sarcastically.

The irony wasn't lost on Edward. Bella, who wouldn't know the difference between a lady and a whore, was standing there looking exactly like one of his father's girls. He rose to meet her. "Yes," he agreed, taking her hands in his. "Now you look like you could belong here. Come and eat," he requested, pulling her to the table. "You must be famished."

She blushed uncharacteristically, biting her bottom lip.

Edward knew her thoughts, opting not to speak them aloud as they sat at the table. She was thinking about doing unspeakable things to him. He could read the expression on her face and in her eyes. There would be time for that later. It was better if they focused on one thing at a time.

The sun was low on the horizon when Edward decided it was time for them to go back downstairs. Edward didn't bother Bella while she retrieved her handbag from the bathroom with everything she said she would need. Then they took the elevator to the casino.

During dinner, Edward made a few calls, discovering the location of a few of his father's friends. Upon the realization that one of them was in the hotel, Edward surmised he would be able to find the man in the casino. He was really only one who mattered the most, and Edward hadn't seen him in six months.

"So who is this guy?" Bella asked glancing around the casino as people milled around playing craps, black jack, slots and poker.

Edward shrugged. "Just a friend of my father."

"A good friend?" she wondered.

"No," he clarified, chuckling. "Not really. And not one who would want to alert my father to my whereabouts. They're more like friends through an acquaintance."

She nodded with another glance around. "Good. So what is he doing here?"

For that question, Edward didn't really have an answer.

It was a clichéd notion for mobsters to set foot inside one of the best casinos on the S trip, but as much as Edward hated admitting it, people rarely broke their molds.

"I can't really say," he insisted. "All I know is he's here, and he'll want to play poker with me."

"Can you beat him?" Bella asked, turning an honestly curious expression to him.

He grinned. "Absolutely."

The Bellagio Casino was just beginning to fill up as Edward guided Bella to the high roller rooms reserved for clients with more money than some small countries.

"We should get drinks," he suggested, turning toward the casino bar as several patrons stood there talking.

"What for?" she asked, frowning.

"We don't want to look too eager, Bella," he reminded her. "When he sees we stopped for drinks, he'll think he's more serious than we are."

She scoffed. "Then he's not serious enough," she quipped.

A tall blond man behind the bar took their drink orders with a brisk nod.

"We'll be in Bobby's Room," he told the barman.

The barman nodded again. "Yes, sir."

With that, he pulled Bella from the bar to make their way to the back.

"I've never been somewhere this fancy," Bella revealed still looking around the casino.

Edward grinned. "I can tell. It's been a little while since I've been here, but I'm looking forward to it."

She scoffed in response. "Try not to be too eager, Edward. That would be bad."

Edward conveniently neglected to mention to Bella that he'd already arranged for money from his personal account to be wired here for him. After her stunt with the convenient store, Edward realized she would be tempted to do it again. Hence, the poker game.

He knew it was the only way anything like this would be possible. It didn't matter what Bella believed. He was the only one with access to it, and despite Bella's worries about being tracked, Edward had become quite adept at evading his father's men — quite adept indeed.

"This place is nice," Bella commented as they walked toward the high-stakes room arm in arm.

Edward laughed softly. "Yes, it is."

She smiled smugly. "It'll be even nicer when we clean 'em out."

To that, Edward only bowed his head, indifferent to her obvious elation.

Edward spotted his father's friend, Liam McDonnel, immediately upon entering the high-stakes room. His dark brown hair was currently slicked back from his unnaturally pale skin, and the moment he lifted his intense mahogany eyes to Edward's, it was clear he recognized Carlisle Cullen's youngest son. With only a nod, he invited Edward to the table as two other men played with him.

Off to the side of the table, Edward noticed his wife and daughter sitting bored at the events taking place. For an Irish Mob Boss, Liam was especially possessive of his wife and daughter, demanding their presence as many hours out of a day as he possibly could. Edward remembered seeing them the last time he'd been here. The daughter, Maggie was discreetly texting on her phone while wearing a blue Ralph Lauren pant suit that made her look taller than she actually was. Her red hair was currently smoothed down into an elegant plait, and her make-up only partially covered the freckles along her cheeks and nose. Despite being nearly twenty years old, she still looked young, like the teenager she was. And by not paying her father any attention, she was proving exactly how young she was by daring to do something her father would hate. It made Edward laugh.

Liam's wife Siobhan watched her husband intently, her violet-blue eyes darting seamlessly between him and his current opponents. Her pursed blood red lips hovered dangerously close to curling up into a smile. She relaxed against the table behind her, her hip cocked to the side as her burgundy silk dress bunched to reveal her milky white legs all the way to her hip. Edward hadn't been a kid the last time he'd seen her, but when her gaze found his, he suddenly felt — small.

He arrived at the table with Bella on his arm, and he announced himself a little too ceremoniously. "Good evening, gentlemen. Mind if I join you?"

The dealer, a lanky man with inky black hair and equally black eyes, lifted his head to Edward then looked at Liam. The intensely serious Liam nodded, and Edward sat down as Bella leaned into him. The dealer began a new hand; Edward lifted his eyes to Siobhan's, unconsciously licking his lips and fighting the tug in his gut telling him to back down from whatever challenge he'd just placed in front of her husband.

Edward tipped his chin defiantly, folding his hands in front of him as the game began.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

This situation with Edward had all become too serious in the last twenty-four hours, and Carlisle had heard enough from the rest of his family and Aro about the consequences. He'd seen plenty of his son's rebellious, disrespectful behavior to know when something was wrong. Right now, he knew something was very wrong with Edward. So before he talked to Aro and certainly before he sat down to dinner with the rest of his family, Carlisle was going to walk up to his son's room, open the door and get some answers. Even if Edward could only remember insignificant details, that would be sufficient.

The door to Edward's room was cracked open. From the hallway, Carlisle heard his son's soft sobs. He stepped closer to the door and saw his son sitting on his bed with his face in his hands. Had Edward even moved since being deposited there by Angela? Carlisle heard her shuffling around the room, presumably searching for clean clothes. He saw more than agony on Edward's face and in his body language.

For the first time in years, guilt and terror was etched across his son's forehead and settled into his slouched shoulders. Edward hadn't looked like this since the car accident with a girl in school after a night of drinking. While that had been Edward's doing, Carlisle knew part of this wasn't. Whatever Isabella Swan had done to his son, Carlisle wanted her to pay for it.

"Mr. Cullen," Angela prompted, stepping up to Edward's side and sitting him up straight. A single tear slipped from Edward's eye and down his cheek. Angela wiped it away gently.

"Mr. Cullen is my father," Edward informed her. "He would never screw up like this."

Angela pulled Edward's shirt above his head. The moment Carlisle saw nail marks on his son's shoulder, he stepped forward into the room, and Angela moved away from his son.

"Thank you, Angela. That will be all."

She blushed deep red and bowed her head, stepping around Carlisle and leaving the room without a word. Carlisle sat on the bed next to Edward, remembering what Esme had said and wishing desperately for her way with words at that very moment.

"You won't ever make a mistake like this again," Carlisle said confidently, to which Edward scoffed and leaned over his legs with his face in his hands again. "That's the good news. I think that — "

"I'm really not in the mood for this," Edward complained. "I know I screwed up, okay?"

Carlisle fought the urge to talk down to his son, especially since it was quite obvious that Edward knew how deep into this he already was. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I know you didn't want to hurt anyone," he told Edward with absolute certainty. "And I know you thought you were doing the right thing bringing that young woman here. Given her condition, I'm uncertain what I feel most."

"Yes, Father. This is exactly what I need to hear. Tell me how much I disgust you. That will really help."

"Actually," Carlisle paused, inhaling then continuing, "I was going to say that I'm proud of you," he revealed, and Edward lifted red, swollen eyes to his father. "And I know how hard it was for you to come home after doing what you did."

Carlisle watched with a clenched heart as another pair of tears slipped from his son's bloodshot eyes and down his nose.

"I've been so stupid," Edward whispered. "I ignored my instincts, and now — I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Lifting his hand to Edward's shoulder, Carlisle leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "You can tell me where Isabella Swan is," he pleaded. "You can tell the police that you didn't do this alone, and you can get yourself cleaned up and come to dinner with the rest of your family."

Edward wiped his tears away roughly. For a few seconds, it seemed like he would listen to his father. But then he stood up from the bed, stepping away and keeping his back to Carlisle as he spoke. "If I do that," he said of his father's request, "everything I've done will come to light. She knows everything, Father. I told her _everything_. Not because I could trust her, but because I was angry. At you."

Carlisle took in a sharp breath, confused but astonished that his son would do anything like this simply because he was angry. Didn't Edward understand why he wanted the best things for him? Had he not been clear about that in the beginning when all of Edward's rebellion had started?

With his fists clenched, Edward went on. "I know if I give her up, she'll tell the police. No matter how long Eleazar has known me or you, he won't be able to ignore it. She'll ruin me, Father."

Carlisle stood up behind Edward, again noticing other marks along his back and a couple of healing gashes over both sides of his rib cage. "I can't help you if I don't know where she is," Carlisle persisted.

"Then you can't help me," Edward exclaimed through clenched teeth.

Having already heard what he needed, Carlisle turned Edward to face him, holding his arms even as he resisted. "It doesn't matter to me what you did a few days ago," he promised his son. "And it doesn't matter if you think no one can help you because of something you told Isabella Swan. I'm your father, and it's my job to make sure you're safe. I swear to you we'll handle this. I won't let her hurt you anymore."

"You can't stop her," Edward cried.

A soft knock on the door broke their conversation. Edward pulled his arms from his father's hands as Esme stepped into the room slowly.

Carlisle remained still, shocked not only by the pain in his son's eyes but also the level of defeat he'd already accepted. It wasn't right for anyone to have this much power over his son, and he refused to believe nothing could be done. Esme stepped to Carlisle's side, watching her son sulk stubbornly.

"If all you're going to do is what you're doing right now," Edward told them through clenched jaws, "then you can go. I can't . . ."

Esme stepped closer to her son, turning him to face her and lifting her hands to his face. As he had with Carlisle, Edward tried to pull away, but she refused to let go.

"Underneath all this anger," she whispered softly, "I know you're in pain. I don't know why, but you have to know how much it hurts me to see you this way. Edward, please, darling. We only want to help you. You need to tell us something. Tell us she hurt you. Tell us she threatened you. Tell us anything. Please."

She moved her arms around his neck and shoulders, having not held him since he was sixteen. He nearly broke down in her arms, and Carlisle moved in to try again.

"Son," he said gently. "Just tell me where she was the last time you saw her. You had to leave her somewhere to come here. Where were you?"

Edward remained silent, holding his mother more tightly. His face changed from stubborn and frustrated to unease. Carlisle hoped he might finally get a response from his son.

"We were in a hotel," he whispered. "A guest suite at the Bellagio."

Carlisle stood up straight. "Is she still there now?" he asked, having not gotten the answer he had expected.

Shaking his head, Edward whispered again. "I don't know."

"And do you know where she is now?" he pressed.

"No," Edward insisted still shaking his head.

Carlisle grinned at Esme forcefully, taking her by the waist to pull her from Edward. "We should give him a chance to clean up before dinner, dear," he suggested to her, lifting his eyes to Edward's. For a few seconds, his son did nothing. But then slowly, Edward nodded. Glad that he'd been able to get some kind of information from his son, Carlisle guided Esme to the door so they could leave him alone.

Carlisle sent Esme down to the dining room to finish everything while he waited in the hallway for Edward. He thought about what Edward had said and what he already knew. If Edward didn't know where Isabella Swan was, then it would make things much more difficult for them. Until this young woman was ready to talk to them, they would have to take this situation extremely slow. Carlisle didn't like having to take his time, especially when his son's freedom and safety were concerned. He knew it was wrong for Edward to benefit from having a rich father, but for this, Carlisle didn't care about fairness. He didn't care about appearances.

Then the door to Edward's room opened unceremoniously, and Carlisle turned to see his son there looking almost like normal. He came out of the room dressed in jeans and a white button down shirt. His unruly auburn locks were now semi-wet and hanging in his eyes, and the few days of stubble he'd had before was now gone. The only things that remained were the bloodshot eyes. Carlisle hoped with enough rest, Edward would look like his old self in a few days.

"Babysitting now, Father?" Edward stated blankly.

"You're my son," Carlisle informed him. "Until you're safe and no longer on the DA's most wanted list, I'm going to be keeping an eye on you and everyone around you."

"Because you don't trust me," Edward scoffed, walking down the hallway toward the first floor and the dining room.

Carlisle stopped him on the stairs, facing him with a hard look in his eyes. "I will always trust you," he promised. "I will never lose faith in you because you're led down the wrong path. You know what you did was wrong, and I won't be reminding you of it anymore. I want us all to move on from this, including you and the young woman now staying in my house. If you hadn't done whatever it is that you did, I know she wouldn't be alive. I can see it in your eyes that you experienced something that changed you for the rest of your life. You hurt this young woman, yes. But you saved her life, Edward. One day, you'll understand that, and you'll believe it as much as I do."

"But you won't let me see her," Edward whispered.

"She needs time to heal," Carlisle pleaded. "You both do. You've both been through so much. I want both of you clear-headed before we attempt to make sense of this. It isn't that I don't trust you with her. You're simply not ready. And neither is she. Come on, now. We should eat. And then you can get a good night's sleep."

Edward didn't argue again, allowing his father to guide him downstairs. The front door opened as they arrived in the foyer, allowing in a tall, bulky-looking man with short, dark short curly hair wearing a pair of dress pants and a light blue button down shirt.

Carlisle recognized his daughter's significant other, Emmett McCarty, instantly, and he stopped Edward in the foyer to say hello.

"It's about time you showed up," Carlisle greeted him with an easy smile on his face and a firm handshake. "We were beginning to wonder if Rose had even invited you."

Emmett gave him a deep-dimpled grin with a twinkle in his bright brown eyes. "I got stuck at the gate," he admitted with a chuckle. "I think the guy there thought I was here to rob the joint. I kept trying to explain that I was invited and _late_, but it took forever for me to convince him."

"Well, then for next time," Carlisle nodded, turning to face Edward as he stood there silently. "Emmett, you remember my youngest son, Edward. This is Emmett McCarty. He's Rosalie's date tonight."

Edward nodded. "I know who he is. Those were some pretty decent plays in the finals last year," he commented on Emmett's sport of choice.

Emmett extended his hand to take Edward's. "You were able to catch a game?"

"Well, with Rosalie."

"She said you recently graduated from Harvard," Emmett commented. "Figured out whether you're following in your father's footsteps?"

To that, Edward bowed his head. "No, not yet."

"I thought I heard the door open," Esme announced, coming into the foyer with Rosalie behind her. She stepped in front of Emmett to give him a light hug. "It's good to see you again," she chuckled.

Emmett squeezed her back. "It's good to see you too. How's the new business going?"

"Oh, fantastic," she exclaimed, relinquishing her hold on him as Rosalie took her place. "And of course, Rose has been a tremendous help, finding clients for us."

Carlisle glanced at Edward as Rosalie took Emmett in her arms and then kissed him passionately even in front of her parents. The look of longing on Edward's face was hard to miss. Carlisle considered rescinding on his decision to keep the young woman away from Edward. Perhaps he was being too rash. Would it be better for Edward to have contact with her even though it was likely she still wasn't ready to be near him after everything that had happened? He knew it wasn't appropriate for Edward to be anywhere near this woman, but until Carlisle knew the whole story, he didn't want to make any assumptions about anything that had happened in Las Vegas.

"All right," Esme chastised with a smile. "We should sit down to dinner first — please."

Rosalie released Emmett, and Carlisle let go of his thoughts, guiding Edward into the dining room as Jasper and Alice emerged from the kitchen.

"Let's all sit down," Carlisle requested, to which everyone at the table obeyed and sat down silently.

Within minutes of them all sitting down, servers filed out of the kitchen, setting plates in front of each chair and offering to fill drinks before disappearing into the kitchen just as quickly. Carlisle watched his son carefully, noting a tinge of scarlet in his cheeks as he blushed. It took every ounce of control Carlisle possessed to not ask what was wrong. As every dish they were eating tonight happened to be Edward's favorites, Carlisle could only guess there was a hint of embarrassment in his son's face.

Light-hearted conversation filled the first half of dinner as Alice and Rosalie exchanged stories concerning their choices of professions. As an interior decorator in high demand nearly everywhere, Rosalie had been in Madrid the last several weeks before their father had called her because of Edward's dilemma. Alice marveled at Rosalie's love of travel and expensive cars, citing an unhealthy obsession with Milan and Paris, while Rosalie expressed a desire to visit Tokyo and Venice in accordance with Alice's love of design and fashion. The two women seemed to have much in common on the level of travel and the design business. Emmett engaged Carlisle in a discussion concerning ownership of his team's practice stadium. And for a short time, it was like they were a normal family.

But an hour after sitting down, Victoria came downstairs and embarrassingly interrupted dinner by stepping to Carlisle's side and whispering urgently.

"Sir, I'm so sorry, but she's awake and in need of some assistance. I tried to help her," Victoria promised, lifting her eyes to Edward's before she continued, "but she's asking for him. I was uncertain what to do."

Carlisle also looked at Edward, then glancing at everyone else before he nodded to Victoria and then smiled at his family. "Please excuse me," he said softly, laying his napkin down as he stood up and left the room uncomfortably.

The west wing of the main estate was where most of their guests stayed. It was directly above the servant quarters though it was decorated quite a bit more lavishly and held many more valuable possessions than the floor below it. Carlisle walked through the dimly-lit, wide corridor with Victoria on his heels, her chin tucked into her chest. As soon as they were at the door to the young woman's guest room, Carlisle turned to Victoria.

"What's her name again?" he asked softly, needing clarification more than information.

Victoria paused. "Lucy, sir."

Carlisle glanced behind him, speaking to Victoria with finality. "Remain here."

He stepped into the room then, seeing half the room illuminated by a lamp turned over on the hard wood floor. Carlisle wasn't accustomed to seeing any of the guest rooms in such disarray, but his attention was drawn away from the lamp by a soft cry from the dark side of the room.

He remembered how disheveled she'd looked upon appearing in the front foyer, even more so than Edward. After his son had deposited her here before being sent away, only a few members of the staff knew exactly where she was. She'd been completely inconsolable, despite Esme's efforts to assure her that she was safe. Edward hadn't offered a lot of explanation as to why he'd brought her here, but he obviously cared enough for this young woman to believe she would be safe in his house. In fact, Carlisle had only seen a glimpse of her since then, and he wasn't very good with comforting young women.

What he was supposed to say to someone who'd been through so much in such a short period of time? From what he knew of her injuries, she'd essentially been tortured. He didn't want to make it worse.

"Who's there?" she cried.

Carlisle inhaled deeply, searched for her and found her tucked between the wall and the table beside the bed. "Don't be alarmed," he pleaded, kneeling in front of her and seeing the same expression on her face he'd seen before. She was terrified. "I won't harm you."

"I know your voice," she asserted.

"Yes, my name is Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen. You're safe here. I promise."

"Where's — " She exhaled, grasping onto a plastic brush tightly. "Where's Edward?"

"I'm sorry," Carlisle said gently. "I don't think it's a good idea for him to see you. You're both so fragile. A few more days should be plenty of time for both of you to start healing."

"Then he didn't tell you?" she demanded.

Carlisle scooted closer to her, noting the bandage on her left arm as well as the bruise over her right cheek. "Tell me what?" he whispered.

"She said she was going to kill me," was the frightened, trembling reply as a set of thick tears slipped down her cheeks.

"But she isn't here," Carlisle promised. "You have nothing to fear here, Lucy. You have my word."

"That's what he said before," she said through clenched teeth.

"Before what?"

"Before he raped me," she cried.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm also going to ask that you not take anything in the story at face value. There's lots of layers, and we'll all discover them together.<strong>

**Thanks for reading!  
><strong>


	3. Taking and Giving

**We're moving along nicely with this chapter. Thanks to all my reviewers. Your words really mean a lot to me. But I want to hear from a lot more of you.**

**Thanks to S.R. Devastate for beta-ing with me. She's my second pair of eyes! And sometimes my third. ;-)**

**More notes at the bottom.**

* * *

><p><strong>Taking and Giving<strong>

**Back then.**

Edward looked at his cards discreetly, already knowing his hand and how much money was in front of him. As many times as he'd played poker against an opponent this formidable, he was always amazed how good he was at feigning an inability to read the other players. For example, right now Liam had no idea that Edward knew how worried he was. By looking at his cards, it made Edward look uncertain of his chances. Poker was all a mind game.

Liam's eyes shifted uneasily between the two other players and Edward. It was going to be close, but with Bella still standing beside him, her arm wrapped comfortably around his shoulders, Edward felt invincible.

The last time he'd really felt this smug, he'd been a junior in college about to win fifty grand from the campus mathematician at a game of Texas Hold 'em. Edward always knew when he was winning and when he was losing, and he was definitely winning by the look in Liam's furious eyes. It was the same look Liam always gave Edward's father, and it meant nothing had changed in the last twenty-five years. Liam still thought he was better than Edward and his father, and it was making him behave foolishly.

He lifted his eyes over Liam's shoulder towards Siobhan. She didn't look thrilled about the card game playing out in front of her. In fact, she looked downright infuriated that a twenty-four-year-old college graduate with only a Harvard education was clearly winning at a high-stakes poker game against her domineering husband. In any other situation, Liam would've expected a good game and quite possibly, his opponent to surrender early. But this game with Edward was different, especially since he was Carlisle's son — the whole feud was a sore subject for Liam and had been since before Edward was born.

Maggie had finally put her phone away to her side, now more interested in watching the game than talking to her friends. She kept looking from her father to Edward and the table, and she knew what was going on by the wonder in her eyes and the blush in her cheeks. How much did she know about her father's history with Edward's? Did she know anything of what had happened before she'd been born?

The instant she smiled at Edward, he allowed his eyes to light up for her. Bella's hand squeezed his shoulder possessively.

Liam lowered his own eyes to the cards in front of him, his hand hovering over his chips before lifting a twenty-five-hundred dollar chip to throw it in the pot.

"Bet," he taunted.

Edward didn't smile — didn't flinch, lowering his eyes to his own chips, wondering what Liam was really trying to do. They weren't playing against only each other anymore. When the other men matched Liam's bet, Edward couldn't back down. Wanting to still appear a little unsure of himself, he reluctantly lifted a five-thousand dollar chip, throwing it in.

"Raise."

The dealer counted quickly. "The bet is five thousand to you, Mr. McDonnel."

Already, there were over a hundred thousand dollars in the pot, and they'd just added over twelve thousand. Bella combed her fingers through Edward's hair, and he absently lifted his eyes, seeing Maggie eyeing him lustfully. He hated leading her on, especially since she wasn't his type, but if it egged Bella on and kept Liam thinking he was bluffing, then so be it. The more possessive Bella looked, the more likely Liam would think Edward wasn't doing very well with the way Liam usually regarded women. It had been the same all those years ago according to his father, but Edward had never had a hand this good in all his years playing.

There were easily another twenty-five thousand dollars worth of chips in front of Liam, and Edward had almost that much money in front of him. They both had plenty left to lose to the victor and a lot more to gain from the loser.

Judging by his growing cocky arrogance, no one would believe Edward had the hand to win, Liam especially.

"You should be careful, _Mr._ Cullen," Liam taunted. "You don't want to start celebrating before the game is over."

Edward grinned impishly. "Oh, I'm not the one who should be careful," he retorted. "At least not in _this _case."

The dealer pulled another card, a four, increasing Edward's chances. A vein on Liam's forehead protruded even further, and his eyes widened even more.

"Call," Edward stated, provoking Liam easily.

"Gentlemen," the dealer glanced at the other players, "you've been called. Showdown, please."

The player to Liam's right groaned. "That's all for me, gentleman," he huffed, turning his cards over and sliding them toward the center of the table. He resigned to an observant pose with his arms over his chest.

"Fold," the dealer announced

The player to Liam's left clicked his tongue. He lifted his hand to his minimal stash of chips, picking up two chips in the motion to throw them in. But at the last second, he stopped. "Sorry, Liam," he smirked, also turning his cards over in defeat.

"And fold," their dealer confirmed.

It was just Edward and Liam now; it only made sense to finish up the game.

The dealer laid down another card. "Two players," he gestured to the table.

"Check," Edward called.

The dealer glanced at Liam. "Check to you, Mr. McDonnel."

For a few seconds, it looked like Liam might also give in. But Edward didn't count on it. Liam wouldn't give up simply because it looked like he would have to go all in to catch Edward's hand. Without looking over his shoulder at his wife, Liam pushed all twenty-five thousand dollars of his chips into the center of the table.

"All in," Liam announced, lifting his eyes to Edward.

"Mr. Cullen," the dealer requested.

Edward laughed softly, admiring Liam's audacity. He was clearly getting under Liam's skin with the eyes, the grin and Bella playing with Edward every time he looked at his wife and daughter. Edward didn't mean anything by his actions, but Liam clearly didn't want to look weak in front of Edward with Siobhan and Maggie watching. It was no problem whatsoever for Edward to match Liam's bet with everything in front of him, and once again, the dealer spoke to Liam.

"Mr. McDonnel, you have been called. Showdown, please."

Liam grinned to himself, lifting his cards and turning them over.

With two fours, a king, an eight and a seven already on the table, he laid down an ace and a nine. He'd made a decent hand.

"High flush," the dealer announced. "Ace plays. Mr. Cullen, please."

Edward shook his head slightly, looking up at Liam through thick lashes and spotting Maggie over his shoulder. Liam's nostrils flared, and Edward lowered his eyes to look at his hand again. Two kings. Edward pursed his lips, lifting the bottom corner slowly and then flipping his own cards over to show them.

"A Full House," the dealer stated monotonously. "Kings full of fours. The high hand. Mr. Cullen wins."

Edward sat back in his chair, watching Liam's face flush as the other two players got up with their drinks. Edward didn't want to push his luck by celebrating and throwing his victory in Liam's face. Still, Edward chose that moment to wrap his arm around Bella's slender waist and smile at her as she now beamed wickedly. He sat up straight, extending his neck and kissing her squarely on the lips.

Maggie scoffed, probably pissed about being mocked, and stood up from her stool, leaving the room. Edward watched over Bella's shoulder before also rising from his chair to make arrangements for his winnings.

"Mr. Cullen," Liam called, his voice hoarse.

Edward stopped, turning back to the table as Siobhan now stood behind her husband with an astonished look only in her eyes.

"Care to join my wife and me for dinner?"

Edward smiled, squeezing Bella's waist. "Of course."

"I have reservations at the Prime Steakhouse for eight," Liam informed him.

Edward smirked. "I'll be there."

With that, Liam stood up and together, they all left the now nearly empty room.

Edward left instructions with the cage manager for his winnings to be cashed out and deposited in his account. Bella wasn't exactly thrilled about that, especially since it meant they were moving on to something else. As they went by elevator to their room to change, he tried to explain.

"I just cleaned out one of the biggest Irish Mob Bosses known to still exist," he said simply. "By cashing all of it out, I'm letting him know I won't be sitting back down with him so he'll have a chance to win it all back. He's only inviting me to dinner to see if he can find a chink in my armor. Bella, I need a favor from you." He turned her to face him, lowered his hands over her lower back and slid his palms over her firm ass.

She smiled, gripping his arms tightly. "I always like doing you favors," she assured him. She pressed the front of her body to his, causing an acute reaction in his loins.

Edward pulled her closer, suddenly wanting to blow off dinner so he could spend the night celebrating with Bella in every position he could. But he had to stay focused. "I need you to be silent and beautiful," he requested. Her smile fell, and her lips pressed together. "And it probably wouldn't be a good idea to be so possessive with me anymore." He lifted the tip of his finger to her bottom lip, rubbing gently. "You want to impress Liam? He doesn't like women with an attitude, not like I do. Can you do that for me, Bella?"

She rolled her eyes, lifted her chin defiantly and clenched her teeth.

Edward frowned, lowering his head until his nose and lips brushed against hers. "Please, Bella. You want to do this, don't you?"

She leaned away from him, lifting enraged brown eyes to him. "Oh, you'll be paying for this later," she warned instead of answering.

He took her threat lightly, leaning down to kiss her and knowing she would have to redo her make-up before she changed. He reached for her leg, hitching it up around his thigh until her other foot almost left the floor. She moaned softly against his mouth, and the elevator dinged their arrival to their suite. With no prying eyes to see them, Edward lifted her in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and carrying her from the elevator into the suite and then to her side of the suite.

"You need to change," he breathed against her lips, laying her over the bed and then leaning back to leave.

She grabbed his shirt, yanking him closer. "I want you to fuck me," she ordered, licking her lips and moving her hand to palm his growing erection.

Edward pulled her hand away, pressing her arms over the bed beside her. "Save that thought for later," he commanded. "We don't have time to play right now. Change."

He didn't give her time to argue, leaving her there on the bed and moving across the suite to where he'd deposited his new clothes. He found the dinner jacket he'd purchased along with the crisp white shirt that came with it, and was just about to pull the clean shirt on, when Bella's hands came over his back. She pulled her nails down his skin a little more roughly than he would've liked, before he turned to see her in the Gucci cream-colored dress.

"You really shouldn't blow me off," she taunted. "What makes you think I won't make your punishment worse for this and that other comment you made?"

Edward smiled, caressing her bare arms and watching her shiver before he spoke. "What makes you think I wouldn't be within my rights to leave you here to fend for yourself?" he teased, again lowering his hands to her ass to pull her against him. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're jealous. But it's not like we're dating. You think I didn't see you sending death glares at Liam's daughter."

Her playfulness faded quickly, and she pushed him away. "You're such a fucking snob," she spat.

"Bella," he chastised. "Be reasonable. We both know I'm the only reason Liam invited us to dinner. He'd have you every way but Sunday before he threw you away — and he wouldn't think twice about having you killed. At least I know what you're good for, and trust me, it's not for impressing Irish Mob Bosses. You're letting one poker game bloat your ego. How am I supposed to control you like that?"

"No one controls me, asshole," she spat.

"Then why don't you stay here?" he suggested. "And I'll go have dinner with Liam, and his wife and daughter."

She balled her hands into fists, her nostrils flaring angrily. She groaned indignantly, standing up straight and then shifting her weight to her left foot with her hip cocked out. "Fine," she bitched, "but your ass is mine when we get back up here."

To that Edward said nothing, finally pulling his shirt on and tucking it in. He followed it with his jacket. It would further antagonize Liam to not dress formally, so for the time being, he decided to forgo the necktie.

Less than an hour after entering their room, Edward and Bella took the elevator back down to the front lobby, taking the long way around to the Prime Steakhouse.

"Why are we going this way?" Bella asked, genuine curiosity filling her voice.

"Well, if we get there on time, it will show him we didn't have anything better to do. I haven't seen him in months, Bella. It will drive him crazy that I decided to keep him waiting after he invited me to dinner."

"You really do like to antagonize your father's friends, don't you?" she teased.

Edward grinned coolly. "This one in particular."

She smiled with him, grasping his arm as they walked along the path to the restaurant.

Edward wondered whether Maggie would join her mother and father. He didn't care to encourage her obvious crush. She needed to try out boys her own age before she moved up in the world. It was a cliché notion, but it was true.

The Maitre D smiled the instant he saw Edward and Bella, gesturing for a waitress before allowing Edward inside.

"Mr. Cullen," he cried, his voice dripping with fake admiration probably for Edward's father. "So wonderful to see you again. Mr. McDonnel is waiting for you."

The dark-blond-haired waiting woman smiled at Edward and Bella, gesturing for them to follow her. With a grin at the Maitre D, Edward stepped away from his podium and into the dimly-lit establishment.

The restaurant was about half full, and the waitress led them passed the full tables and around the empty tables without menus. She didn't look at them after her initial acknowledgment. Edward didn't prompt any further interaction.

A private table in the back where Liam and Siobhan were already seated with wine in front of them was their destination.

"What can I get you to drink?" the waitress asked, looking at Edward first.

He barely thought about it. "Scotch on the rocks, please."

She nodded and looked at Bella. "And for you, miss?"

Bella surprised Edward with her manners. "White wine spritzer, please," she ordered.

The waitress smiled slightly and stepped away from their table before disappearing silently.

After they ordered — Edward chose the filet mignon with scalloped potatoes, Bella ordered the lobster with a caesar salad — it looked like he might be able to enjoy a nice meal peacefully. That was until Liam spoke.

"So, Edward," Liam began over his own porterhouse steak, "I understand you've recently graduated from Harvard."

Edward scoffed. "If two years ago is recent."

"The experience wasn't what you had in mind?" Siobhan asked, taking a bite of her Alaskan Halibut.

Edward dodged that question easily. "Only if I'd had a mind like my brother's."

"Is it not your intention to follow in his footsteps?" Liam asked.

Again, Edward scoffed, this time a little louder, as if somehow this would prove the point. "Well, if it were, then I wouldn't be sitting here with you, now would I?"

Liam smirked, his deep-set eyes glimmering with insinuation of Edward's inexperience.

Then dinner became three kinds of tedious as Liam attempted to engage Edward in a discussion about the etiquette involved in closing a merger with two opposing companies.

"Would you really allow all those people to keep their jobs?" he asked Edward, repulsed. "It's their fault the company failed."

Despite not fully appreciating the inner-workings of said companies but unfortunately understanding them too well, Edward tried to sound interested. "That doesn't mean they couldn't be retrained to do something more suitable for their qualifications," he argued. "Companies fail because the people dishing out the responsibility can't take any for themselves. Plus, it's not like you can take them out back and put them in front of a firing squad. This isn't Sicily, for God's sake."

Liam pursed his lips like he'd done that before. "Who said that?" he taunted. "Besides, a good business isn't only dependent on its leaders. Surely your father would agree with me."

Edward chose not respond to that, moving uneasily in his seat and pulling on his jacket.

"Are you all right?" Siobhan asked earnestly.

He smiled uncomfortably. "Yes, thank you."

Edward didn't like talking business, and it struck him as strange that Liam was suddenly fascinated with the subject of mergers since he usually took whatever he wanted and left the rest for some poor sap to clean up the mess. Liam was a mob boss, after all.

Much more interesting was when halfway through dinner, Edward felt a highly arched bare foot slide up the inside of his leg. His cock reacted instantly to the stimulation, but his brain forced him to look around.

With Bella at his side, the only person it could be was Siobhan as she sat across from him. The moment his eyes met hers, she turned her attention to her husband, but it was obvious she'd been looking in Edward's direction upon slipping her foot up his leg. Absently, Edward cleared his throat, shifting nervously next to Bella and thankful the tablecloth covered Siobhan's foot. She smiled, sipping on her red wine, and then her foot shifted to the inside of his other leg, sliding down his calf.

Edward laughed softly, drawing unwanted attention from Liam and Bella.

"Something's funny?" Bella asked over her third glass of wine.

He cleared his throat. "No. Sorry."

Edward wasn't entirely turned off by her flirting, but he didn't appreciate it either. Despite being somewhat uninterested in a long-term relationship, Edward didn't believe in ignoring the person he was with. It was the principal of the thing that mattered to him. And she _was_ married to a man would no sooner have Edward hung up by his balls before he allowed her to be with another man — well, one other man anyway.

The waitress stepped into their private room then, bringing with her a menu of stouter drinks. Edward decided to forgo drinking, glancing at his hosts.

"Please excuse me," he grinned, rising and straightening his jacket in the hope that his hard-on wouldn't be noticed. "I just need to go to the restroom."

Even though Edward knew he was leaving Bella in the presence of a man she would have difficulty avoiding advances from despite his wife, he needed some air. He hoped Bella would behave herself.

There was a reason why Edward hated his father's life, and it had nothing to do with the expensive suits and overpriced restaurants. The life he'd been raised within was not a place where free-thought and independence were welcome attributes. And Edward needed to be able to breathe, regardless of how he'd been raised.

The hotel bar was far enough away for him to hide from Bella and Liam for a little while, and he ordered a dry vodka before sitting down silently.

"Rough day," a soft voice deduced, and he looked to his left to see a striking blond dressed in a blue Armani dress. Her hair was curly and almost to her waist, and her skin was amazingly fair for being in Las Vegas.

"Something like that," he acknowledged.

Despite having initiated the conversation, she remained facing the bar with a glass of clear liquid in front of her. "You don't sound like you're enjoying yourself," she continued, turning her head but not her eyes toward him.

Edward smiled his most charming smile. "What can I say? It's been a _long _day."

"Then why are you in Las Vegas?" she asked, holding her glass gently and easing her finger around the inside rim slowly before she lifted it and took a drink.

"Wanted to have fun," he answered, eyeing her behavior curiously.

She laughed once. "It doesn't sound like you're succeeding. Maybe you should try something different."

He laughed softly as his drink arrived, and he took a sip before speaking again. "What would you suggest?" he inquired, noticing that she still hadn't looked at him.

For another minute, she didn't speak, and Edward found himself staring at her full lips and the light blush in her cheeks. If she wouldn't look at him, he couldn't find out the color of her eyes. He wondered if they were blue. She had a young woman's figure, so he guessed she was probably in her early twenties, and her dress seemed to support a modest bust line while still showing a little cleavage. Even though he didn't know her name, Edward found himself intrigued by her demeanor, her voice and the way she held her glass.

"It's rude to stare at someone," she informed, still not looking at him directly. How did she know he was staring? "Are you wearing Ralph Lauren?"

Edward lowered his eyes to his suit. "Uh, no, it's . . . Gucci," he revealed. He grinned. "My cologne is Ralph Lauren."

"Polo Blue," she guessed accurately.

He tipped his head to the side, feeling something in his mind click as he watched her. He realized her behavior reminded him of someone he hadn't seen in eight years. Experimentally, he extended his hand to touch the back of hers, and when she responded by turning her hand to his, he spoke softly. "Edward."

With her eyes still forward but her head tilted in his direction, she smiled a little wider. "Lucy."

He leaned in closer. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't really think — "

"A blind girl could order her own drink or hold her own with a velvet-sounding, nice-smelling, well-dressed man who's obviously avoiding someone," she interjected.

He bowed his head. "Please allow me to apologize immensely. I really have had a long day."

"I can tell."

Edward smiled again, glancing around the bar. "And what are you doing in Las Vegas?" he asked her.

"Overdue vacation," she nodded.

"You're here alone?"

She smirked. "Yes. I drove here."

He blushed for the first time in years. "I apologize."

She smiled again, lifting her glass slowly while still fingering the inside. "It's really okay," she assured him. "I was deposited here while my date for the evening went to the casino. And I'm on my fourth drink."

"You've had four of those?" he pointed to her drink, realizing what he was doing after only a few seconds, berating himself.

"It's just water. My date didn't trust me with any hard liquor, so I promised I would be his designated driver," she teased.

Edward laughed. "He must be brave to trust you with getting home," he chuckled, sensing for the moment that he'd found a worthy distraction from Liam — and Bella.

"He surprises me sometimes," she shrugged.

He laughed again, taking a sip of his own drink. She didn't really remind him of any woman he'd ever met, and that was unusual for Edward, since he'd met plenty of women. Edward hadn't known many blonds he wasn't related to. It just wasn't something he went for, but Lucy wasn't a typical blond. It wasn't only her blindness that set her apart. Aside from her not looking directly at him, she held her own very nicely. He didn't ever think something like that would be more attractive to him than it was with Bella, but he found himself admiring Lucy's ability to not take her condition too seriously.

"When is your date supposed to come for you?" he wondered. "Surely he must miss you if you've been here long enough to have so many glasses of water."

She laughed at that. "Sometimes I wonder," she giggled. "It's not like I can go looking for him."

Edward blushed again and the need to be chivalrous overpowered him uncharacteristically. "I would be happy to take you to him if you can describe him to me," he offered.

She held up her hand. "Thank you, but I just met you. He wouldn't be thrilled if I let a strange man walk me through the hotel. I'm all right here."

He sat up straight after having leaned in closer to her. "I'm confused," he confessed. "Why would he leave you here like this? If he's your date, isn't he supposed to be here with you?"

Despite not seeing the disapproval on his face, she seemed to understand what he was saying. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's — It isn't like that," she assured him. "He's my brother. I only meant he was my date because we came here for a night out."

Edward scoffed. "Doesn't that kind of make it worse?"

She shrugged. "I leave him places all the time," she insisted.

The confusion faded from his face slowly, and he found himself smiling again. "You're funny," he told her. "Much more funny than you should be."

"After about ten years, the newness wore off," she stated plainly. "If I can't have a sense of humor, then I might as well slip into a hole and, well, you get it. At least I hope you do."

Even though Edward didn't know what it felt like to be blind, he did know about having a sense of humor. And in that way, she was right. If he took his life too seriously, he might as well give up now. "I get it," he nodded. "More than I should."

"Lucy!"

Edward turned to see a tall, blond-haired young man with a light tan and dressed in an expensive suit with the top two buttons undone coming into the bar, with his blue eyes set on Edward the entire way. Edward guessed this was her brother.

"I'm still here, Mike," she sighed. "Honestly, where would I go?"

Mike looked at Edward, and it was awkward for a moment before she spoke again.

"This is Edward," she gestured in his direction. Then she pointed in Mike's direction. "This is my step-brother, Mike."

Edward extended his hand, and after a few seconds, Mike reciprocated. "Pleasure to meet you," Edward greeted, not as pleasantly as he should have.

"Nice to meet you too," Mike smiled. "We should be going, Lucy. It's late."

"You make it sound like I could've walked off and left," she complained with a smile, allowing him to take her arm and help her from the stool. "It was nice to meet you, Edward."

He reached for her hand again, holding it gently. "It was a pleasure to meet you too, Lucy."

They walked away without another word. Edward watched them before looking around the bar again and spotting Bella as she stood at the entrance watching him with a glare in her eye.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

Aro arrived at the house at 8:50 p.m. By then, the dinner table was cleared and nearly everyone was in the parlor with after-dinner drinks. Everyone except Edward sat around the room talking quietly, and Carlisle leaned lazily against the entrance to the room in anticipation of his publicist.

He watched his wife, eldest son and daughter, feeling like he needed to follow Edward upstairs to make sure he got some much needed sleep. However Aro had discovered something which warranted a late-night visit, and that was important.

Carlisle knew Edward was, if nothing else, remorseful for his actions. But he wanted Edward to understand the seriousness of the several charges his son was being accused of. It was for that reason that Carlisle thought he was prepared for whatever his publicist had to show him. But he wasn't ready when Aro showed him the police photos of a young man sprawled out on the floor of a hotel suite with nearly all his blood on the floor around him.

"When were these taken?" Carlisle demanded, sitting at the desk in his study with the photos in hand.

"More than 72 hours ago," Aro revealed delicately. "The police were waiting to get the medical examiner's report back, along with fingerprint identification and DNA imprinting."

Carlisle lifted his eyes to Aro's, seeing his serious brown irises staring back. "And?"

With a deep sigh, Aro pulled another set of papers from the briefcase he'd brought with him and handed it to Carlisle. "Edward's fingerprints were found not only in this suite but also the Penthouse Suite — on several items in both rooms, along with a small handgun and a switchblade knife found in the guest suite.

"His blood was in the bathroom of the guest suite, and samples of his DNA were taken from a condom in the Penthouse Suite. His blood-stained clothes were discovered in a dumpster several blocks from the hotel, along with a blue Armani dress also stained with blood, though it wasn't Edward's."

Carlisle looked over the papers in front of him, reading over the evidence list. Several crystal glasses, a crystal lamp and three whiskey flasks. The clothes were a problem. Carlisle had no idea why Edward had disposed of them, and what was it about the blood in the guest suite and the condom in the Penthouse Suite. Without the whole picture, Carlisle wanted to avoid coming to the wrong conclusion. He wanted to believe Edward hadn't meant to harm the young woman, Lucy, in any way that would involve a gun or a knife. After speaking to her only an hour earlier, Carlisle was sickened to admit that his son had taken advantage of her trust and most notably her innocence. But murder?

"Was this the weapon used on the young man in these photos?" Carlisle asked of the handgun.

"Yes," Aro nodded. "He died of a gunshot wound to the lower right abdomen — the police report says he bled to death. A medical examiner in the Las Vegas Police Department stated he was dead nearly ten hours before he was discovered. A maid found him when she walked passed the room and smelled the body. A 'Do Not Disturb' sign had been left on the door."

Carlisle lifted his eyes to Aro's again. "And were Edward's fingerprints on that?"

Aro bowed his head. "No."

Finally, a piece of good news.

Carlisle returned to the crime scene photos, observing familiar cuts and gashes over the young man's body that appeared to be randomly inflicted. "What are all these marks on him?" he asked Aro.

His publicist looked at another set of papers. "A preliminary report said it was possible he was tortured before he was shot."

"And these marks were made with the switchblade?"

Aro nodded. "Yes."

The marks were the same depth as Edward's own gashes. Carlisle wondered if the hand that had produced them was the same hand that had carved words into Lucy's arm and the cuts on his son's body. Edward hadn't said anything about a gun or a young man, but he hadn't really said much about anything.

"Mr. Cullen, sir," Aro began, stepping closer to the desk. "The Las Vegas police are filing papers to have Edward extradited back to their district so they can prosecute him for the," he paused, "shooting. And if I may be honest with you, it doesn't look like we'll be able to stop them."

Carlisle set the photos on his desk. "Have the police released this information to the press?"

"It's running in the news tomorrow morning," Aro confirmed.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed the photos and reports away. "Thank you, Aro," he acknowledged, nodding for Aro to leave.

His publicist hesitated for several seconds, taking his briefcase and then leaving with a slight bow. Once he was gone, Carlisle pulled out his cell phone, touching the screen and dialing an out-of-state number he hadn't called in several months. Honestly, he hadn't felt the need since visiting the city last summer. With it being spring now Carlisle hoped he wasn't overstepping his boundaries.

"I haven't heard from you in six months, Carlisle," a woman answered. "I thought we agreed not to speak again on unprofessional terms."

He grinned unconsciously, thinking of the last time he'd seen her and wondering if she thought of it the way he did. "Well, luckily for us, this is a business call."

She didn't say anything for several seconds. "And exactly how can I help you now?"

"It's my son, Edward. I understand you still have pull at the news outlets there."

"What do you need?" she asked apparently uninterested in an explanation.

Carlisle didn't hesitate. "I need time. My son's life is in a very precarious position right now, but he didn't get there alone. I'm having trouble extracting information from him, and until I know either where this girl is or what's happened to her, he'll take all the blame. It's imperative I have as much time as you can give me."

Again, she was silent, and she was probably hesitant to assist him in his endeavor. He couldn't blame her. "I was curious as to why he was in Las Vegas a few days ago."

Carlisle sat up instantly. "You saw him?"

"Of course I did. He cleaned my husband out in less than three hours. I've never seen Liam so upset. To be beaten by a 24-year-old high society prat, as he put it. But I was impressed by Edward's tenacity. He was quite defiant — for being one of yours."

"Was he alone?" Carlisle questioned.

"No," she answered quickly. "He had a brunette with him. Probably 5'4", feisty, possessive. She didn't seem to like him flirting with my daughter. I must admit, my husband wasn't too thrilled about it either for that matter. Edward is quite the charmer."

Carlisle had no witty come back for that.

After another long pause, she spoke again. "I'll see what I can do," she assured him. "But I can only stall them for a day or two."

"If that's all you can do, then I appreciate it. Thank you, Siobhan. And try not to let Liam know you're helping me. It would only infuriate him further."

She chuckled. "Don't I know it. Goodbye, Carlisle."

He turned off his phone then, looking up as the door to his office opened to reveal Angela alone.

"Mr. Cullen, you asked to see me," she announced.

"Yes, Angela, I need you to do me a small favor, and I need you to not tell anyone I've asked you to do it."

She moved closer to the desk slowly, fidgeting steadily.

"We have a guest in the west wing who was brought into the house with Edward yesterday morning," he began. "I need you to take Edward to her room, and then I need you to watch them tonight to make sure they're all right."

She hesitated, and Carlisle lifted his eyes to hers.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, sir, it's just — I'm confused."

"About what?" he inquired.

Again, she hesitated, having trouble finding her voice for a few seconds before she spoke again. "I thought he wasn't supposed to see her until he had a few days' rest."

Carlisle lowered his eyes to the photos and reports on his desk. "I've changed my mind," he informed her. "Just do it. And I'll tell his mother what I've decided. Go."

She didn't argue any further, turning and leaving the room.

Carlisle sat back from his desk, trying to put all the pieces together with what little information he had available to him. It was clear that Edward had gone to Las Vegas in a fit of rebellion, and he'd obviously chosen Isabella Swan as a partner in crime — quite literally. Carlisle had no doubt in his mind that Edward had seen or heard or even done something that caused his conscience to come back to him, and he needed to know what that was. Was it this young man? Was it Lucy? Surely, Edward wouldn't have allowed something like this to continue without trying to stop it.

* * *

><p>A soft knock on the door brought Edward out of his trance, and he stood up from the floor slowly, opening the door to see Angela there alone.<p>

"Edward — Sir, your father has asked me to take you to her," she announced.

For half a minute Edward was confused, standing there in his half-buttoned shirt, pants and no shoes. But Angela looked serious. So he opened the door and stepped into the hallway with her.

She led him away from his room, glancing over her shoulder at him every now and then as they crossed the main staircase into the west wing.

Edward hadn't been in this wing for several months. Most of the girls he'd brought to the house had only stayed for one night, and most of them came to his room with him. He'd had no need to give them a guest room.

It was even darker here now that most of the lights had been turned off, but a few lamps still lined the walls.

When Angela stopped at a set of doors still illuminated by a pair of lamps, Edward also stopped, watching her open the door.

"It's all right," she assured him. "I'll stay out here."

Slightly dumbfounded, Edward moved toward the door slowly, stepping inside to discover half the room illuminated by a knocked over floor lamp. Leaving the door open, he picked up the lamp and set it back on the entry table, glancing around the room and seeing her there on the floor in the dark side of the room.

He hadn't even realized where he was carrying her with it being so early, and he hadn't been given the opportunity to make sure she was all right. His mother had banned him from the room. He hadn't seen her since.

She looked like she'd had a bath, and she wore a clean pair of jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. But honestly, she looked nearly as innocent as she had the first time he'd seen her, even as scared as she was and despite her hair being much shorter. The bruise on her face glaringly reminded him what had happened to her, but not nearly as much as the bandage on her arm or the tears in her eyes.

She knew he was in the room, having already pulled her legs as close to her as she could. He approached her slowly, knowing she could probably smell him, but she didn't speak until he was in front of her.

"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded.

He lowered his eyes to the bandage on her left arm, reaching for it slowly before she pulled away from him. He wrapped his hand around her wrist gently, remembering when he'd discovered her cuts and wishing he could take it all back. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Not good enough," she spat.

"I'm sorry," he said again, almost whispering. "If I hadn't . . ."

"Stop saying that," she shrieked, and he flinched, feeling it in his toes.

"I didn't have a choice," he swore.

She shouted at him. "You always have a choice!"

He eased a little closer, still holding her arm and then laid his other hand over the side of her head. "Lucy, please. I didn't want to hurt you."

She pushed him away, causing him to fall on his ass. "Well, you did."

He sat up, folding his legs under him. "I knew you would be safe here," he insisted. "She can't hurt you here, and I won't bother you anymore. I just had to know you were okay."

He got up to leave, and he was almost to the door when she called him back.

"You're still making excuses for her," she accused.

He stopped just shy of the door. "What?"

"You heard me," she spat. "You know what she did, and you know what happened. This is so much more serious than you're treating it, and you're still making excuses for her. You're trying to act like you couldn't have stopped her at any moment, but the truth is you could've. You never took her seriously."

Edward glanced over his shoulder at her. "Then maybe I'll be the only one who has to pay for it," he whispered.

He took a step outside the door, and she spoke again.

"You . . . don't have to leave," she amended, despite pushing him away from her. "It wasn't just me she hurt. She hurt us both."

He knew she was right, even if what had happened to him wasn't nearly as bad. But if he was going to start healing, he had to admit that more than part of what had happened was his fault. He could've said no at any point, especially when things took a turn for the worse, but the truth is, he hadn't expected it go as far as it did. How was he supposed to have known how bad it was going to get?

He stepped back into the room, moving to where she sat and sitting next to her against the wall. "I really am sorry," he whispered. "I know it isn't good enough, and I know it's my fault this happened to you. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I hadn't seen you that night."

"Then she would've picked someone else, and it might've been worse."

He knew she was right. He grimaced, seeing her arms still around her legs and her hands grasping onto her knees. Slowly, he lifted his hand to back of hers, hoping. After a few long seconds, she turned her hand to his, allowing him to take it gently.

"I'm sorry about your step-brother," he said after another few seconds.

She laid her head over his shoulder then, crying softly, and Edward closed his eyes, still hearing the gunshot and seeing all the blood. He could still smell it in the air and feel it on his skin. He would remember that long after he went to prison. When he forgot why he'd done it, when he took his last breath, he would remember that smell. He would never be able to take it back, and it was _painful _to know that not only had he hurt her more terribly than anyone could've imagined, but he'd also caused her step-brother to be killed in his place.

"He was all I had left," she whispered after half a minute.

Edward laid his cheek over the top of her head, squeezing her hand and knowing there was more he could do for her besides say he was sorry.

A knock came at the door, and after a few seconds, Angela stepped into the room quietly.

"Edward — sir, do you need anything?" she asked softly.

A grumbling stomach took all his attention from Angela, and he suddenly knew what he really wanted for the first time in months, maybe years.

"A plate from the kitchen," he requested. "Left over from dinner tonight and since I know it will be in the cold storage, heat it up. With two bottles of water, please."

It took a minute for her to understand since Edward knew he was rarely considerate of other people, and she bowed her head, backing out of the room and then leaving quietly.

"I never meant for any of this to happen," he whispered, rising and switching on the lamp above her head before he sat back down. "But I'm going to start making up for everything I've done wrong. I promise."

She waited a minute, speaking candidly. "Will you start telling the truth?" she pleaded. "Not just to everyone else, but to yourself too."

Edward took her hands in his, grateful that she didn't pull away like she had before. "It's not that simple," he argued.

"It is," she insisted. "You just have to do it."

He lifted his eyes to her, knowing she was right and realizing what he would have to do if he decided it was time to tell his father everything that had happened. While he knew it wouldn't be easy, maybe it was the answer. Maybe that was the way he could take back some of the power that had been taken from him.

* * *

><p><strong>After this, things will be getting what can only be described as more complicated, and that's the only warning you're going to get. You know all those stories where Edward and Bella end up together? This isn't one of them. But don't let that stop you. Enjoy the ride while we're on it.<strong>

**Leave a review, get a preview of the next chapter. **

**I hope to have it out by next Wednesday.**

**Thanks for reading!  
><strong>


	4. The Things You Do to Me

**I know, I know. It's Thursday - well, at least for me, it's Thursday - and I'm a day late posting. But I promise it couldn't be avoided. I'll try to be better at predicting when the next chapter is going to be ready. ;-)**

**Here's the new chapter. All the warnings for the first chapter and the second chapter apply. Sex, violence and language, plus anything else I can think of. If you think this might be uncomfortable for you, cover your eyes.**

**Thanks to S R Devastate for beta-ing for me! If we missed anything, that's all on us.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Things You Do to Me<strong>

**Back then.**

Bella attacked Edward once they were alone in the elevator, ripping his shirt open and then yanking it out of his pants. It was pointless to stop her when she acted so determined, but the moment her teeth came over his nipple and bit down, he grabbed her arms to try to push her away.

"Easy, Bella," he soothed even though she still looked enraged.

"Easy," she repeated. "Like you think I want anything to be easy."

She leaned up into his neck, still using her teeth to bite at him and dragging her nails down his back to his waist. Pain blossomed over his skin. Edward hissed, squeezing her arms and shoving her back again.

"Stop," he commanded. "This isn't funny."

Bella set her jaw hard, standing still as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to their suite. It took half a minute for her to calm down, but she stepped away, following him into his bedroom where he proceeded to pull his jacket and shirt off in front of the full-length mirror.

"You better pray I'm not bleeding," he complained. "That shirt cost me four hundred dollars."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have bought it."

She stepped behind him, bringing her hands to his waist. The instant her tongue made contact with his skin, Edward jumped and tried to turn around only to have her stop him.

"What are you doing?" he asked — confused.

"Just hold still."

It took Edward nearly a minute to realize what she was doing as her tongue slid over several tender streaks over his back. It stung sharply. He _was_ bleeding, and she was licking his blood.

Slowly, Bella moved her hands around his waist to unbutton and then unzip his pants. Edward glanced back at her as her hand pushed his underwear down leaving him exposed to the room. His cock was already hard; she wrapped her hand around him before stroking him. After winning all that money and then playing businessman with Liam during dinner, Edward felt more rebellious than ever. It was obvious Bella was feeling frisky as well. How could Edward deny her now?

Bella pushed his pants and underwear down his legs, leaving him naked in front of the mirror, and she slowly stepped around to be in front of him. He reached for her automatically, leaning in to kiss her, but she leaned away.

She shook her head. "Uh-uh," she teased, walking him back to the bed and sitting him there. Once he was perched on the end of the bed, she backed away from him until she was in front of the mirror.

Edward wanted to touch himself the way he usually did when they had sex, but the minute his hand wrapped around his cock, Bella shook her head again.

"I'm punishing you for being bad. Remember?"

He smirked, leaning back on his hands, chuckling softly as she pushed off her shoes. The back of her dress unzipped easily; she pulled the hem up until the apex of her legs was visible. Breath caught in Edward's throat; she hadn't been wearing underwear the entire time she'd been down in the casino and the restaurant. He got harder just looking at her and then she pulled her dress down from her shoulders.

Her milky white skin was gold-tinted by the soft yellow light of the bedroom. She lifted her hands to her breasts, rubbing and then pinching her nipples.

Edward groaned. "Oh. Come on, Bella. No need to torture us both."

She moved toward him slowly, swaying her hips. She planted her hands over the bed beside his hips, leaning in and kissing his chest before again taking his nipple in her teeth. This time, she was much more gentle, but at the same time, she pinched his thigh. Sharp pain shot up into his torso, and he jumped.

"Jesus, Bella!"

She paid him no attention, scraping her teeth up his chest to his neck and wrapping her hand around his cock again. The contact made him jump again, but she held him down. Bella leaned up finally to kiss him, commanding him firmly.

"Lay back and don't talk."

In the last few months since meeting Bella, Edward had become accustomed to her way in bed even if he didn't find it endearing or even attractive. Bella was the kind of girl who gave nearly as good as she got, and since he was never gentle with her, Edward figured it was only fair for him to get the same treatment. He had his limits, of course, but for the most part, nothing she did ever made Edward uncomfortable — biting and blood-drinking aside.

Edward scooted back on the bed further, watching her crawl over him. She shoved all the pillows off the bed, revealing a heavy brass headpiece, and then made him grasp onto it. Finger by finger she brought his hands around the cold metal. He glanced down between their naked bodies, noticing how close her bare pussy was to his cock. He bucked his hips to touch her, but she wasn't having it yet.

"Be still," she ordered, pinching him under his arm. "Or are you enjoying this? Now who's the masochist?"

He grimaced, watching her smile devilishly as she lowered her mouth over his chest. Her teeth grazed his skin until she arrived at his nipple a third time. She reached between their bodies, wrapping her hand around him to hold him still.

"Bella," he groaned, trying to move again and sucking in a deep breath as a tinge of pain shot up his body.

"How does that feel?" she crooned, squeezing him tighter. "You're such a whore. Tell me you like it."

Confused, Edward responded the only way he knew how. "Yes," he groaned.

"Yes, what?" She squeezed even tighter.

"I like it!"

She chortled. "Oh, you _are_ a whore," she teased.

He thought she was playing a game with him — the same one he usually played with her. "Only with you," he replied, biting back another groan as she stroked him roughly.

"Better be this way only with me," she warned.

She lowered her hot, wet mouth down his chest to his abdomen, and Edward lifted his head again to watch her. The muscles in his neck burned as he held his head up, and when Bella paused pressing her hands to the bed, Edward swallowed nervously. She didn't touch him again, scooting off the bed then to the floor.

"Stay there," she ordered.

Again, he groaned but didn't move. He couldn't say she didn't make his life interesting, even if there were times when she infuriated him with her inability to fit in with his crowd. Edward couldn't remember the last time he'd had as good a time as he'd had so far even with the few hiccups. And yet he couldn't keep his brain in the present. For some reason, he kept thinking back to that girl he'd met downstairs. Lucy.

Bella came back after only a couple of minutes; she crawled onto the bed brandishing a white silk scarf. Edward thought she might blindfold him — it wouldn't be the first time — but when she tied him to the bed, Edward felt his heart leap into his throat. All he could think about was her tying Honey to the bed in the motel the night before.

"Bella, come on," he grinned.

She tightened both sides, leaning over until her face was above his. When he saw the look in her eyes, Edward knew she wasn't playing anymore. He'd only seen her look this way a few times, and she'd never looked at him like this. Out of nowhere she produced a condom, ripped it open before slowly rolling it on him. Edward tried to pull his hands free unsuccessfully, clenching his teeth.

"Bella, this isn't funny anymore," he snarled softly. "Untie me."

She grinned again, burrowing her fingernails into his biceps and then setting her jaw again. "Oh, I know it's not funny. And maybe now you'll better reconsider running into pretty little blonds in the hotel bar when you're supposed to be with me."

Edward scoffed. "Her? Bella, she's nobody," he insisted. "I had to get away from Liam. I thought you were all about self-sufficiency. You don't need me. Now untie me."

While straddling his waist in front of where his still erect cock encased inside a condom, Bella reached behind her, again wrapping her hand around him and squeezing him a little too tightly. "No," she replied. "And you're right. I don't need you. But you came here with me, and I won't have you entertaining ideas about leaving me here. Understand, your Highness?"

Uncomfortable jolts of pain throbbed up Edward's body with each of her ministrations, and it wasn't until he was writhing beneath her that Bella scooted a little further down his body to position herself above him. There was no resistance on her part as she lowered herself over him until he was seated all the way inside her. For nearly half a minute, Edward relaxed and reveled in the way she felt around him — at least until she laid a cold, steel blade against the right side of his body just under his ribs.

His euphoria gone, Edward lifted his eyes to Bella's, a shit-eating grin on her face. The blade against his skin wasn't hurting him yet, but with the glint in her eyes, he knew it was only a matter of time.

"Bella, stop," he ordered. "I told you, I was just getting away from Liam. I wasn't leaving you there. And I wasn't meeting another girl there. It was just a coincidence. Now put the knife away."

She leaned in closer, still grinning and clamped her hand over his mouth less than a second before the blade of her knife sliced through his skin. He tried to scream, tried to pull his hands free, but the knots of the scarf were far tighter than he thought possible. She started to move again, allowing the slick folds of her pussy to stroke him through the condom.

"Oh, that's it, whore," she moaned, clenching him inside her. "You're such a good little slut. I knew it the night we met. Oh, fuck, that feels good."

With her hand on his mouth, Edward couldn't retaliate, and with his wrists tied to the bed, he couldn't push her away. He didn't understand.

Chills flickered up his body, mingled with the intense pain of his new injury, and Edward began to lose control of his body. Bella was acting crazy, all his cock wanted was to fuck. She was seriously even more twisted around than he thought.

Bella rubbed her finger over his wound, eliciting a groan from him as more pain throbbed through his torso. He couldn't decide what he wanted more — alcohol or pussy.

She laughed as he struggled, and she licked her blood-stained finger. "Mm, you taste good, little whore," she moaned.

Edward watched her more intently than he ever had as she relished in her ability to overpower him. She was naked with a knife as she sat on top of him, and he was helpless to stop her as she laid the blade against his left side to repeat her previous actions there.

Edward got light-headed, little prickles of light flooding his eyesight as his body responded to her torture. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn't into that whole BDSM shit, and he sure as hell wasn't vocal about wanting to play with weapons like this. She sped up her movements then, leaning over him and grabbing a handful of his hair as she laid her face in the bend of his neck.

"You fuck so good, bitch," she moaned next to his ear. "Feel so good. No wonder all those cunts like to squeeze your dick. Mm, that's it. Just a little more. Oh, shit. That's right, whore. Fuck!"

Without warning, she closed her mouth around his shoulder, biting him even harder than she had in the elevator and surely drawing blood the moment her own orgasm hit her violently.

Without her hand on his mouth, Edward yelled, still grasping onto his bonds and clenching his teeth over the pain in his neck. "Jesus, fucking hell!"

Bella moaned softly as she released his flesh, leaning back to look at him. It was only then that Edward realized the tears in his eyes by the wetness on his skin. She pressed her hands to the bed, staring at him reproachfully. "Now, do you swear never to do that again?"

He wasn't sure if she meant leaving her with Liam or meeting Lucy in the bar, but whatever he'd done, Edward didn't want to do it again. He nodded frantically.

"Do you swear on all your father's money that you'll be a good little whore from now on?"

Again, he nodded, even more lightheaded as his wounds continued to bleed.

"And you swear on that little slut's life that you won't leave me alone again?"

He grit his teeth together, nodding a third time. "Yes, I swear."

She smiled, taking his chin in her hand and leaning down to kiss him. Pain still throbbed through his torso, but he tried not to flinch when her skin touched his. She disengaged from him slowly, pulling the condom off as she climbed off the bed and threw it away before she returned to untie him.

He didn't say anything to her the moment he was free, getting off the bed and moving into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, locking it and then turning to face the mirror.

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think?" she teased.

He didn't respond, finding towels and cleaning away the blood to find the wounds so his could treat them and clean them.

Bella didn't say anything else, and after he was sure he wasn't bleeding anymore, Edward stepped into the shower. The cuts on his sides stung when the water touched them, but he endured it for as long as it took to get cleaned up. When he was finished with his shower, Edward left the bathroom to discover his bedroom empty. The top comforter of the bed was now stained with his blood. He left the bedroom to find Bella.

The doors to her bedroom were closed. Though Edward wanted to know she was still there, he decided against knocking. Instead, he called hotel room service and requested a first aid kit.

"Sir," the woman at the other end said, "do you need a doctor?"

"No," he said quickly. "I'm fine. I just — I stubbed my toe. Just send me the damn thing, will you?" he demanded, hanging up the phone.

Whether they believed him or not, Edward didn't care.

It took less than five minutes, and the elevator ding sounded like the most blessed sound he'd ever heard.

"I have a first aid kit for you, Mr. Cullen," the young blond woman announced. She looked at him funny as he stood in an unbuttoned shirt and jeans.

"Thank you," he replied, reaching into his pocket for money.

She said nothing more to him, leaving after he tipped her.

With that, Edward returned to his bathroom to look at his wounds.

Bella had never done anything like this to him, and he was uncertain why she'd done it this time. He'd flirted with more women in front of her than he could count, but she'd always known they meant nothing to him. She couldn't have done this because she felt threatened by a girl he'd met in the hotel bar for less than ten minutes. Had he really been acting that different with Lucy?

Was she really that insecure to believe he would leave her with Liam so he could meet someone else? Edward didn't feel obligated to Bella in any way, but it wasn't his thing to simply take an opportunity when it arose. A dick he might've had, but he didn't always let it lead him around.

Thankfully, his wounds weren't deep enough for him to need stitches, but it was more painful than he could've realized for him to apply butterfly strips to them and then bandage them up as tightly as he could. He'd never had cuts like this in life. He hoped they didn't get infected, or even worse, give him something else like AIDS or Hepatitis. But while Bella was apparently impetuous and sadistic, she wasn't stupid enough to cut him with a dirty blade. Right?

He found a bottle of Jack Daniels in the bar, poured himself a glass and pulled out his phone to see that he'd missed four calls from Jasper. Edward wasn't about to admit his brother had been right about Bella or her life compared to his. He wasn't about to confirm everything Jasper and his father had told him about Bella. The last thing he needed was the two of them beating a dead horse. He didn't care about their opinions now, even if they'd both been right.

It was close to one o'clock in the morning when Bella came back, and by then, Edward was still sitting at the bar with his glass. He'd only nursed one glass, thinking and calling Charles to find out where the man was parked for the night. He'd instructed Charles to keep his cell phone on in the event of something going horribly wrong. Edward was sincerely hoping nothing more did.

"Hey," Bella greeted, sitting up at the bar with him like nothing had happened.

Edward scoffed. "Hey."

She pouted. "What?"

He glared at her. "What?" He repeated, _"What?"_

"I'm sorry," she whined, stepping closer to him and lifting her hands to his waist.

He pulled away from her, and she huffed.

"Oh, come on," she complained. "It wasn't that bad. I don't even know why I did that. But I saw you with her, and . . . I don't know. I lost it for a little while."

Edward faced her, his own jaw set hard. "Wasn't that bad?" he shouted.

"Stop yelling at me," she demanded. "If it was me flirting with some guy, you would've — "

"No, I would not have," he yelled.

She exhaled softly, easing closer to him. "Okay. I'm sorry," she whispered a little more sincerely. She tugged on his shirt gently, lifting doe eyes to him. "Really. I promise. I don't mean to be so possessive. And if you'll let me, I want to make it up to you."

"I'm tired," he spat, stepping away from her.

"I know you didn't come with me," she whispered suggestively, leaning up to kiss him. He turned his head before her lips could touch his, and she ended up kissing his cheek instead. "And I know you still need to. I promise to let you be as rough as you want," she offered.

The thought was appealing for a minute or two, and in those fleeting moments, she unbuttoned his jeans and laid a few feather-light kisses along his collarbone. But then Edward remembered the blade in her hand slicing through his flesh, and the idea of being in the same room with her became rather undesirable.

"I'm not in the mood right now," he retorted.

She grinned innocently, which for her was not a good look at all. "Oh, I don't mean with me. I figured you'd be mad, so I thought I'd find you someone a little more suitable."

Edward stepped back again, grasping onto her arms to hold her still. "Bella, what have you done now?"

She didn't say anything, reaching to button his shirt and then pulling him to the elevator of their suite. For a reason unknown to him then, Edward followed her, not longer obligated but somehow afraid of where she was taking him and what would happen to him if he refused her again.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

Not long after the food was gone, Lucy fell asleep with her head still on Edward's shoulder; he couldn't remember the last time he'd been more tired. Despite his injuries, Edward was more than willing to stay exactly where he was for the rest of the night. It was late, and the rest of the house was somewhat silent outside the usual ticking clocks and the few servants still moving through the house. Edward knew his father was still awake and probably working some angle to keep him out of prison. Edward didn't really care. He didn't care about himself or even the rest of his life. He'd screwed up. He deserved to be punished for it. But the girl in his arms now mattered more than what happened to him. She was still innocent.

"Edward — I mean, sir," Angela called softly, now standing in the doorway. "Is everything all right?"

Edward didn't want to move. Reluctantly, he eased away from Lucy and then lifted her in his arms as Angela stepped closer. Edward gestured to the food. "Take that back downstairs," he ordered, to which she bowed her head and picked up the empty plates. "Then go start my shower."

For a few seconds, she didn't move; it looked like she didn't understand. But she nodded all the same and turned to leave. Once she was gone, Edward laid Lucy over the bed and found a blanket to spread over her. He worried about leaving her alone again, but he realized they'd come to an understanding after everything that had happened. They'd both been through hell, and now they both needed to heal. He knew they would start on common ground in the morning. For the first time in years, he was looking forward to getting to know someone he wanted to know.

He left a lamp on for her even though the idea later made him feel a little silly as he walked from her room toward his. Maybe he did it because he felt better knowing he'd left a light on for her. He still didn't know the extent of her blindness, but surely, it was good gesture — leaving a light on for her in the event someone needed to find her again. Halfway to his room, he contemplated going back to make sure she was all right, but he was exhausted and in need of a shower very badly despite already taking a short one earlier.

The space of his room was as dimly illuminated as it had been earlier; Edward stepped inside, closing the door behind him as the sound of his shower running reached his ears. Much to his relief, Angela was waiting for him in the satin slip he knew she wore beneath her uniform, and she turned to him as he stepped into the bathroom. Only four steps separated them, and the moment he was close enough, he removed her dark-framed cat-eye glasses and lowered his hands to her hips to pull her as close to him as he could. Thankfully she recognized the tenor of his emotions, allowing him to kiss her for the first time in several months and chancing her hands to unbutton his shirt.

At first he kissed her hungrily, grasping onto her hips and crushing her slim body against his. She held onto his shoulders, tilting her head back for him to lick and kiss her neck. Slowly, as he pulled her slip above her head and then untied her long, wavy dark brown hair, Edward became less aggressive, laying his forehead against hers and softly grimacing as her fingertips eased over the healing gashes on both sides of his chest. She gently slid her finger tip over the faint scar lining his chest from the hollow of his neck to his belly button. He took her wrists in his hands, holding her away from him and doing everything in his power to keep from thinking she was someone else — someone whom Edward had never imagined could've been capable of anything like this. Edward delved into his memories, remembering the first time he'd met Angela.

His father had insisted on assigning her to him despite the fact that he'd been more uncontrollable than usual at that age. For several weeks, his father had actually thought about changing his mind, but Angela seemed to have a way with Edward — much like his mother. While his mother had her moments when she was too harsh with him, she still loved Edward. To Carlisle's amazement, Angela had become an important part of Edward's survival while he'd been in college. Of course, now, five years later, Edward's father knew why even if he wasn't happy about it. It didn't have anything to do with her skills at doing laundry or serving food.

"Edward," she whispered softly, lifting her fingers to his face and reminding him who she was.

He never said anything, shrugging his shirt off and deftly removing his pants. He kissed her again, backing her up to the shower and then stepping inside with her in his arms. He needed her now, and he didn't really care what his father thought about what they were doing anymore.

Angela's skin was so warm and smooth; Edward loved the way it felt under the hot water of his shower. It still felt the same way it had the first time. Every time he touched her, it never failed to make him feel like he was nineteen again. There was an innocence in her that always touched a part of Edward he kept so deeply hidden no one knew it existed anymore. After everything that had happened, Edward was afraid to wear any of his emotions for everyone to see, but with Angela, he wasn't afraid. He knew he could trust her.

Several times during their shower, Edward felt his body fall into a familiar pattern, and every time Angela whimpered against his lips, he consciously slowed his movements to keep from causing her too much discomfort. He knew it had been several months since he'd paid her any attention, and he felt horrible about using her now. He couldn't imagine about what she must think of him for ordering her around and then treating her like a proverbial punching bag, even if he would've never laid a finger on her to harm her. Angela was the closest thing Edward had to a friend, and he needed a friend now more than ever. She seemed to understand that. The heat inside the shower spurred Edward's strength, and the moment he felt Angela's climax, he quickly found his own, holding her taut body as close to his as he could.

He didn't bother with towels or clothes, carrying her out of the bathroom to his bed and laying down over the unmade sheets and comforter. He didn't have to say anything to her. She knew he was only just beginning to get all of it out of his system, and Edward was ashamed to admit how right she was. She was shy at first, blushing bright red as he propped himself above her and drove his eyes over her naked body. Her dark nipples and dark hair at the apex of her legs only drew him closer to her, and he used his knowledge of her body to his advantage. She combed her long fingers through his wet hair as he swirled his tongue around her nipples, and he rose to kiss her more gently than he had in the shower.

She gasped against his lips and tongue, rubbing her hands down the smooth plane of his back to his tailbone and then kissing him back just as completely as he kissed her. After several seconds, she became bold as she usually did after the initial awkwardness, gently lowering her hands over his firm ass and pulling him closer to her until his hardening cock made contact with her throbbing pussy. Her heart pounded beneath her breast, and Edward caressed her skin with the tip of his nose, wishing he'd never left — wishing he'd never met _her_.

"Edward," she breathed, exhaling and moaning so softly he barely heard her.

He lowered his hands to her round hips and grasped onto her to hold her against him, and he moved his lips and tongue along the smooth edge of her belly until he came over her navel. Angela arched back sharply, lifting her hand to his head and combing her fingers through his hair again. Gentle chills eased up Edward's spine, and he was reminded of the one thing he appreciated about Angela more than anything else. He'd been horrible to her, leaving her for months and even before then when he'd still treated her like a maid despite her never really acting like one. And she still allowed him to touch her and kiss her and be with her. It was more than he deserved.

More than anything, Edward knew he couldn't take back what he'd done wrong, but the fact that no one was willing to pass judgment on him should've annoyed the shit out of him. He should've been infuriated at every member of his family — except Rosalie of course. And even though Angela wasn't technically a member of Edward's family, she was behaving the same as them. It should've made him angry. But he couldn't be angry with her. She didn't know exactly what he'd done and therefore wouldn't know to wonder how he could live with himself this way. The honest answer was that Edward couldn't. He couldn't be like this anymore. He had to change, but he didn't know how.

Angela rubbed his scalp with the tips of her fingers, bringing him back in the present and allowing him to lift his head to look at her as she laid at his mercy. He remembered how she liked it when he stroked and licked her, and even though he normally wouldn't have cared, Edward wanted her to feel worshiped for just one night. He knew _this _they would never happen again. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees, settling his weight on one arm as he lowered his fingers to her wet center. She moaned again, biting her lip gently and wrapped her hand around his arm. The swollen folds around her entrance responded, and with more moisture from within her, Edward easily slid a finger insider her. She squeezed his arm tightly, arching her back even more and lowering her eyes to his.

"Oh, God," she whimpered softly.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

She opened her eyes, gazing at him and then grasping onto his arm tighter.

Edward gently replaced his one finger with two, and Angela moved with his slow thrusts helplessly. He didn't usually touch her like this any other time they'd had sex, but she instinctively knew he wasn't the same person he'd been before meeting _her_. She somehow understood he wanted to be different. And she was only too willing to allow this difference to take its hold on him. Edward could feel how much she liked it, and he admitted to himself that he liked it too. He wondered absently as he lay there with Angela if anyone would be able to see it on his face the next time they saw him.

Angela's body trembled as he eased his fingers from within her. He watched her prepare herself for his entrance, but he didn't want this to be like the shower. He wanted to take his time, and he wanted her to believe him when he told her how much he cared about her — because he did, more than he'd ever really cared about anyone. He wasn't in love with Angela, but he needed her. It was confusing, but it was the way he felt. He leaned down until his body was only centimeters from hers, propping himself on his forearms and kissing her as deeply as he could without already being inside her. Her hands drifted from his arms to his chest, close to his cuts but not touching.

He ignored the sliver of pain that flickered up his back when the muscles in his back screamed at him to relax. This wasn't about him; it was about her. He wanted it so much to be about her, and after another minute, she nudged him back to look at him again. She lifted her hands to his face, caressing his cheeks and the curve of his lips. Her fingertips brushed along his jaw and then his chin, and she smiled for the first time since he'd been home. Without saying anything, she nodded. It was okay.

His lips met hers lightly before making a soft, wet trail down her neck, and it was only a few seconds before he was kissing her nipples again. Her skin erupted in goose bumps, and her nipples hardened beneath his tongue. She responded so intensely to every little movement that as soon as he kissed her navel a second time, she cried out.

"Edward!"

He didn't stop there, wrapping his hands around her thighs and dipping his head between them where her warm, slick folds beckoned him closer. He'd never taken a lot of pleasure out of doing this to any other woman, and he realized then that he never would. It wasn't just about what he'd done now. It was about what he would never do again. He would never touch Angela again, whether he went to prison or not. He would never kiss her or hold her, or whisper to her or hear her whisper to him. After all this was over, he had to let her go. This is what finally made him sad. He was losing someone else important to him the same way he had when he'd been sixteen.

His tongue made contact with her clitoris, and she cried out again, gently grasping a handful of his hair and prompting him to crawl over her. He hovered over her half a minute or little more, taking both her hands in one of his and pulling her leg around his body as he lined them up differently from how he ever had. It wasn't as smooth or easy as he was used to, but he liked it. It meant she hadn't been with anyone but him. A few strokes was what it took for him to be completely inside her, and he moved as slowly and gently as he could to keep her comfortable until she was used to him.

Angela strained against him, wringing his hand in both of hers. Edward released one of her hands, keeping the other in his and entwining their fingers. She wrapped her hand around the crown of his head, lacing her fingers through his hair and reflexively shutting her eyes even as she moved in time with him. She wrapped her other leg around him, matching his rhythm more easily with each thrust and doing nothing to hide how much she liked what he was doing to her.

"Open your eyes," he pleaded, caressing the tip of her nose with his and trembling himself when she obeyed.

Edward had no defenses for this, feeling his body ease into a pace he'd never been familiar with. "I don't know what I'm doing," he whispered, panting and nearly crying. "I can't— "

She kissed him squarely on his lips before he could finish what he was saying. And she whispered without leaning back from him. "Yes, you can," she promised.

Through no action on his part, Edward ended up on his back with Angela moving above him, and he forced himself to sit up in front of her, holding her against him and keeping her face as close to his as he could. He didn't want to feel any more vulnerable than he already had, and Angela seemed to understand the moment he kissed her. No longer was he the stuck-up rich boy home from Harvard on a drinking binge with a pair of girls from the city. Now he was an adult, with all the responsibilities and consequences therein.

They laid in bed silently in the hours afterward as moonlight illuminated the room through a window behind his bed. No words were needed after his room was quiet once again. But Edward couldn't keep his thoughts to himself for too long.

"You can't tell my father."

Curiously, she rose up to her elbow, and he looked at her. "Tell him what?" she asked.

"Anything."

Normally, she agreed to what he said because he usually knew what was best. But for the first time in a long time, she argued with him. "But it isn't okay what happened to you," she insisted. "I might not know details, but I can see you're hurt. You're as much a victim as that girl you brought here. You shouldn't have to pay for it."

"But I will," he assured her. "So just don't tell him anything. Please."

In the five years they'd known each other, Edward had never pleaded with Angela to do anything, so she had to know he wasn't doing it lightly. He could see it in her eyes. And when she laid her head back down, he trusted that she would listen to him the way she usually did. Edward didn't say anything else, turning to his side to face her and then closing his eyes. He was asleep within minutes.

* * *

><p>Jasper returned to his father's house silently after taking Alice back to her high-rise apartment in the city. It was nearly three in the morning, and Jasper expected the house to be dark. When he stepped inside and saw a light on in his father's office, Jasper naturally moved toward it, wondering who was still awake. He wasn't surprised to see his father sitting at the desk with a glass of Scotch in front of him.<p>

"Father," he called, and Carlisle looked up. "It's after three in the morning. Why are you still down here?"

He only asked because he wanted his father to admit what they both already knew was true. Jasper knew his father was trying to think up some way to keep Edward from going to prison even if he knew it was very likely.

"It isn't looking very well for your brother," Carlisle conceded. "I'm uncertain how to help him."

Jasper sighed heavily, moving to a chair in front of the desk and sitting down with a soft chuckle. "Well, excuse me for saying this now, but I think you could've done something about eight years ago when all of this started," he informed his father.

Carlisle looked up from the papers and photos on his desk. "I'm aware of that now," he retorted. Then he sat back in his high-back brown leather chair. "But I'm having trouble seeing where I went wrong with him. I raised both of you the same." Carlisle paused. "Didn't I?"

A long silence filled the air, and Carlisle took a long swig of his Scotch before Jasper answered him.

"Did Edward ever want this?" he asked instead, gesturing to the desk but not necessarily the documents on it.

Carlisle leveled a determined look in Jasper's eyes. "Exactly what are you implying?" he demanded, though it came out as more of a plea.

"Father," Jasper began. He paused before speaking again. "All I ever remember about Edward was his desire to sit at the piano in the library after school and go to his eighth grade soccer practices. When he was in college, he majored in parties and Heineken. He never wanted to go to the classes you told him to go to, and he never tried to make the best grades. It just happened. Because you asked him to do it."

Carlisle was confused. "All I ever wanted was for him to be happy," he argued.

Jasper scoffed while leaning forward with his hands clasped together. "You had an _amazing_ way of showing it every time he came home with a hangover and a new girlfriend you didn't approve of."

Another long silence followed Jasper's statement, and Carlisle seemed at a loss for words. Jasper spoke again after a few long seconds.

"Father, I _wanted _to do what you do. I went to college to learn how to do it, and now I'm the youngest junior vice president in your firm. Edward went to college to get away from you, and now he's being charged with raping and kidnapping a twenty-two-year-old woman sleeping in our house. I think it's safe to say that Edward never wanted to go to college — not to do what you wanted him to do. I honestly think he would've been happier going to a music school. He never told you he applied to every music school in New York he could, including Juilliard and Eastman, did he?"

Stunned, Carlisle shook his head.

"I think that's how much you know about him," Jasper stated bluntly. "Maybe it's time you tried learning a little more about him before he's sent to prison. It just might the last chance you get. You could even hope he's not too old to be responsive." Jasper paused lowering his eyes to the desk. "And I think I need to call Peter now. Since it's obvious you don't want Edward to _go_ to prison."

Jasper could've just as easily gone into criminal law with his college friend, Peter Jackson. Now that this was happening with Edward, Jasper was kind of glad he hadn't. The last thing Edward needed was a family member defending him in open court. Even if Peter was a friend of Jasper's, he was tough and meticulous. Jasper was sure Peter could find a way to keep the conflict of interest at a minimum. At least he was hoping that much.

"Do you think Peter will help?" Carlisle asked after nearly a minute.

Jasper nodded. "I do. He likes complicated cases, and forgive me for saying it, but this is one fucking complicated case."

Carlisle huffed loudly. "Yes, on that I agree with you. It is very fucking complicated."

A smile crossed Jasper's face at the sound of his father using a rare expletive. But the situation definitely called for it, and Jasper couldn't argue with the need to express some sort of frustration.

"Father," Jasper said after half a minute. "You should get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning," he nodded, rising from his chair and then moving to leave the room.

Carlisle spoke just before he left. "Jasper," he called.

Jasper paused at the door.

His father nodded. "Thank you."

Jasper also nodded, smiling a small smile and then leaving the room slowly. He hadn't really had a conversation like that with his father since college, though it hadn't been about Edward. Jasper hoped it didn't turn out to be for nothing.

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><p><strong>If you're all the way down here, then you didn't get completely lost in all that, and I promise you'll be better for it. Don't read to far into everything with Angela. We're just getting started.<strong>

**As always, thanks for reading, and if you review, you get a preview of the next chapter. And thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far, and everyone who's put my story on their alerts and favorites.**

**Next chapter might be up by the end of next week. Keep your fingers crossed.  
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	5. Hookers & Whores

**Okay, I know it's been a lot longer than I said it would be when I updated, but if you've visited my profile, then you know I've been having internet problems. I'm using internet away from my house right now so that I can upload this chapter for you.**

**There's not a lot to say about this chapter, except things are moving right along, and I hope I haven't left anyone too confused about events happening.**

**Thanks to S.R. Devastate for beta-ing for me! You're the best, especially with me going through an internet conspiracy. ;-)**

**Language and situations ahead not for anyone under 18. You were warned!  
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**Read on!  
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* * *

><p><strong>Hookers &amp; Whores<strong>

**Back then.**

The liquor Edward had drunk earlier to calm his nerves was beginning to wear off when Bella pulled him out of the elevator to the front lobby of the hotel. Dull pain vibrated up his torso every time his feet hit the floor, but Bella didn't seem to care that she'd hurt him, let alone that he was still hurting. They made it to the front entrance without having spoken a word in the elevator. It was dark, obviously, but the lights of the city illuminated everything in tinges of orange, blue and green from every direction.

"Bella, where are we going?" Edward demanded, pulling his hand from hers and stopping just outside the hotel entrance.

"You'll see. Just relax."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where you're taking me," he shouted garnering attention from the two valets still standing under the awning. "I'm still in pain from the cuts on my ribcage that you inflicted on me, Bella."

She glanced at the valets, stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. "So now I can't take you anywhere?" she griped. "We — This was _your_ idea. _You_ wanted to come here and do this. To get back at your fucking asshole of a father. At least my father lets me do whatever the hell I want to do, and I don't have to pay for it the next morning. You wanted to hit a few casinos and clean out some mob bosses. So far, we've played one game of poker and had dinner with a dick from Ireland, and you've tried your hand at two other floozies who obviously got more of your attention than I did!"

Edward couldn't believe he was still shocked at her outburst, but he was. After what she'd already done, it shouldn't have surprised him at all. He remembered Lucy and realized Bella was obviously still pissed off about it. But that was the only other girl he'd set eyes on in a sociable way.

Bella glared at him. "What, you think I didn't see all those looks you kept giving that asshole's bitch of a wife?" she taunted. "And don't think I didn't see the way she looked at you during the game and dinner. I'm not blind, you fucking whore."

For the first time in his life, Edward felt like hitting a girl. Nothing she accused him of warranted an assault with a fucking knife. But he didn't deck her; that's what she wanted. Instead, he balled his fists and pulled in as cleansing breath as he could. "I'm not the whore," he spat. "And I don't care how much you think you can get a rise out of me."

She scoffed, looking toward the nearest valet. "If I tell you where we're going, you won't go. It's not exactly your scene. Maybe I can't do what I want here," she gestured to the hotel, "because those cunts at the counter would probably call the police."

"And why exactly is that?"

She stepped closer to him, tugging at his shirt and lifting her eyes to him again as she spoke in a too-timid voice. "Edward. Please. You said you wanted to piss your father off. Believe me, _this_ will piss him off."

He didn't want to do anything if she wouldn't tell him a little about where she was taking him, especially when she said it like that. But something in him told him not to let her out of his sight again. For all he knew, she had gone off without him and done something that was very likely illegal and worse than anything they'd done so far. And it was for that reason, and that reason only, that he allowed Bella to pull him to a taxi just as it pulled under the awning to the hotel.

It wasn't something Edward really cared to admit, but every time he'd been Las Vegas, he'd only ever been on the Strip, a stretch of Las Vegas Boulevard that went for less than five miles and where most of the high-end casinos, restaurants and hotels were situated at the south end of the street. But the Boulevard actually stretched over the length of the city from north to south, the north end made up of shops and gambling halls left over from the sixties.

The taxi driver drove Edward and Bella toward the north end of the boulevard without asking where to go, and that worried Edward worse than he already was. What had he gotten himself into? Where was Bella taking him?

When he saw the first prostitute on the curb, Edward's pulse increased. He glanced at Bella as she sat by quietly. Now he knew this was a bad idea, and berated himself for allowing it.

"Bella, please tell me you didn't do what I think you did," he begged.

She smiled. "What do you think I did?"

The taxi stopped in front of a motel. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Bella thrust money in the man's waiting hand.

"No problem."

She pushed Edward out of the car.

The motel wasn't exactly run down, but it was small with two stories and a dingy coat of pink paint on the outside. Edward glanced around, spotting two more hookers less than thirty feet away. Even though it was dark, he felt like they were undressing him with their eyes.

Then Bella grabbed his hand. "Come on. You'll like this."

Edward didn't resist, but he knew by the look on Bella's face that she'd done this because she wanted to shock him or impress him — he couldn't decide which. "Bella, you wouldn't have dragged me here if you knew what I liked," he said.

She didn't respond to that, changing the subject. "Aren't you going to ask how I paid for this?"

He smirked. "I'm guessing you used some of your ill-gotten convenient store cash stash," he baited.

Bella eyed him harshly, bypassing the front office and walking through the inside parking lot filled by only a few cars distributed at random. A room farthest away from the front of the motel looked like their destination as she pulled him up to the stairs to the second level. She stopped at the door, turning to him before she opened it.

"I did this for you," she confessed.

Edward lifted his hands to his waist. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

She grinned mischievously. "No, but there's someone in here who will. If you really want to do something your father would hate."

He scoffed, and she grinned maliciously, opening the door and pulling him inside.

The inside of the motel room was a shoebox compared to their suite at the Bellagio. There was no bathroom and only one window overlooking the parking lot. The carpet was an ugly olive green that clashed with a faded burgundy comforter covering the king-sized bed. The two bedside tables had cheap cloth covers over them, populated by a gaudy lamp each. Next to an old rotary phone a turn-dial clock read one-fifteen a.m.

Edward was tired of playing this game with Bella. He just wanted to get out of here now. The moment he saw the girl on the bed, he turned to leave.

"I'm done with this."

Bella stopped him, pressing her hands into his bandages, and he pulled away from her, hissing softly. "You're not going anywhere."

"This is ridiculous, Bella," he yelled, anger replacing his initial shock. "What the fuck are we doing here!"

She pushed him further into the room and closed the door. "I told you. I did this for you. Come on, Edward. You know you want to. This place is just right for you."

She turned him to face the bed, and the girl there rose to face him. She wasn't wearing much of anything — her short, tight skirt offered him a solid view of her perky ass, and her skimpy top pushed her small breasts up to make cleavage a woman twice her age could only dream of. She looked like she was fifteen. It wasn't the same as it had been with Honey.

"Come on, baby," she crooned though she looked a little nervous. "I've got what you need right over here." She rubbed her hands over her cleavage and then down her ass uneasily.

She stepped closer to Edward, pressing the front of her body to his. Edward felt his stomach turn over; she smelled like beer and cigarettes. He tried to push her away, but with Bella still behind him, he had nowhere to go.

"Bella, please." He exhaled, attempting to push the girl in front of him away.

"It'll be fun," she reassured him.

"I don't — "

The girl leaned up to kiss him, her lips making contact with his. She tasted like cheap wine. He grabbed her arms and pushed her away. She stumbled and fell to the floor. He hadn't meant to push her that hard. But now he was pissed. He turned to Bella.

"I don't want to fuck a prostitute," he shouted. "And I don't want to do it here! If you're still trying to get back at me for sitting in the hotel bar with a girl I don't know, this is the most psychotic thing you could possibly think up."

Bella ground her teeth together, balling her fists. "Oh, it's not just about sitting in the hotel bar with her. You came here with me," she griped. "You're supposed to be _with me_, not some uptight, blond bimbo. And you're sure as shit not supposed to enjoy spending time with her!"

"So you hired a hooker and rented a cheap motel room thinking I would want to take out all my frustrations on her?" he yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me is you're acting like you're better than me! Just because all that old money your father inherited got you all those maids and cars and clothes doesn't mean you're the only one who knows how to have a good time. You're the one with all those stuck-up bitches you've taken to bed. How are they any better than her?" She pointed to the girl still behind him. "How are _you_ any better than her?"

Edward didn't know how to respond to that, turning to the girl again as she stood to face him. "What's your name?" he asked her.

For nearly a minute, she didn't say anything. Then she wrapped her arms around her middle and lowered her eyes. "Bree."

"And exactly how old are you?"

Again, for a minute, she didn't speak. "I'm eighteen," she stuttered.

Edward smirked, bringing his hands to his waist again.

She cowered away from him, sitting on the bed. "I'm sixteen," she admitted.

"And how long have you been doing this?"

His question seemed to make her mad, and she clenched her teeth. "My parents kicked me out my house, okay?" she yelled. "I didn't have anywhere to go, and I didn't have any way of supporting myself."

"So you chose to do this?" he asked incredulously.

"What else could I do? I can't get a job."

Edward glanced at Bella, wondering exactly how she'd done something like this. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and giving Bree most of the money he had.

"Take this and leave," he ordered. "Buy yourself some real clothes and food."

She took the money, looking at him like he'd just done the nicest thing for her anyone ever had. But for a minute, she didn't move.

"You don't want me to do anything?" she asked, confused.

She stepped closer to him, leaning up to kiss him again. She was Bella's height, but her body was smaller, and it felt wrong for her to kiss him. He nudged her away gently.

"I don't want you to do anything," he assured her. "Just leave."

Bree looked at Bella. It looked to Edward like this particular occurrence of his resistance hadn't been part of their agreement. Bella huffed, shaking her head and then gesturing to the door only a minute before Bree left with the money.

"That was completely unnecessary," Edward complained. "You've made your point."

"Really? Because yesterday, you had absolutely no problem fucking that blond bitch you picked up at the car dealership. And you didn't have any problem doing any of the other things we've done since getting into the city."

"Well, that was before you took a knife to me! And I'm tired. You can't toy with people like that. This is not a game, Bella."

She laughed and folded her arms over her chest. "Then maybe you shouldn't have behaved like it was a game yesterday. Because that's exactly what you made it out to be. And I really don't see the difference between this and what you did to the slut at the car dealership. Except now I'm the one paying for it. And we can't have that. So does this mean you're ready to go back to daddy now like a good little boy? I won't ever see you again, since we both know how he feels about me."

"Why are you being like this?" Edward pleaded. "And who gives a shit what my father thinks?"

"You do! We wouldn't be here if you didn't."

A knock on the door interrupted their shouting match, and Edward stepped around her to open it. A tall, blond-haired man in an imitation Armani suit stood there with Bree behind him, and he scrutinized Edward with his steel blue eyes and a taunting smile on his face.

"Are you the man who gave her all this money?" he asked Edward, holding up the several hundred dollars he'd given Bree.

"I am," he claimed.

The man's smile changed slightly into a glare. "Well, I have rules, Mister Money. And I can't allow any of my employees to take money they didn't earn. So how about we have a talk about this money. You can call me James for now," he said, extending his hand to Edward's.

He took James' hand without introducing himself, and James stepped into the room with Bree on his heels.

James' blond hair was long and pulled into a ponytail. He had probably a day's worth of stubble, and despite having clean hands and manicured fingernails, Edward saw him as nothing more than a thug. It didn't matter how good his suit appeared, and it didn't matter how he carried himself. Edward knew he was several levels below Liam in the power department. Right now, it looked like he barely had any control over Bree.

"So what are you?" Edward asked him. "Her pimp?"

James looked offended, turning his eyes to Bree and then Bella. "At least I take care of my own business," he taunted, like he knew who Edward was and where he'd come from.

Edward glanced at Bella. "If you could call it that," he retorted. "And she's not exactly old enough to do any of this."

An evil grin crossed James' face. "She's old enough," he chuckled.

"She's sixteen!"

"Weren't you?" James retaliated. "You think I don't remember you, Cullen? How long has it been? Four years. I never forget a face, especially when it's sitting across from me beating me at a poker game I set up. What'd you do with that money? Buy your own strip joint?"

Edward saw it now — the scar above James' right eye curved into a rough line over his eyebrow. Four years was a long time. Edward had forgotten about that weekend, except for the fact that he'd left the city five-hundred thousand dollars richer. But he hadn't really done anything with it, putting it in a bank account separate from all his father's holdings. Edward had won that money fair and square though. He didn't owe James anything.

Bella stepped closer to Edward, wrapping her hands around his arm and then leaning up to whisper to him. "Are you enjoying yourself yet?" she snickered.

He turned the glare he'd had on James in her direction, and when she didn't back down, he took his arm from her hands.

"Your friend tells me you have quite a way with the ladies," James said with a wide grin. "So what's so wrong with allowing this one to show you a good time?" He gestured to Bree.

She was no longer looking at Edward as she stood behind James fidgeting steadily. She looked scared and nervous now, and Edward realized that had been part of Bella's plan. While she might have wanted him to fuck Bree to see if he would, she really wanted to see him squirm from listening to James talk like the girl in the room wasn't worthy of his attention — like she believed about Lucy.

But he couldn't give James the upper hand. So he changed his angle. "She stinks," he snorted. "And she's not my type. Maybe if she didn't smell like she'd already given a cheap asshole his last blowjob, it'd be easier for me enjoy myself."

This seemed to alleviate some of James' antagonistic behavior. "That can be arranged," he promised.

Edward rolled his eyes. "She's not old enough for me."

James smiled, folding his arms over his chest. "She can be as old as you need her to be. Ask her about all the lessons she's learned since I hired her."

More disgusted than he'd ever been, Edward stepped around James and took Bree's arm to pull her out of the room.

"Where are we going?" she pleaded.

He didn't answer her, pulling her down the stairs to the parking lot as Bella came out of the room yelling for him.

"What the fuck are you doing, Edward? Where are you going to take her? Your hotel room?"

He yelled over his shoulder. "Maybe. Are you coming?"

When Bella didn't respond, Edward stopped and turned to look at her. Right now, he didn't care about pissing her off, and he couldn't worry about what she would do. She could play games with him all she wanted, and even if he left her here, he knew she would come back to the hotel. She held grudges better than a wild dog, and she'd try to play another game with him later. But he'd be damned if he was going to let her drag a sixteen-year-old girl into the middle of it. He could figure out a way to get Bree away from the city. James would never see her again. That was more important right now than keeping Bella happy.

"I didn't want to do this," Bree cried as he held her there with a grip on her arm. "Please don't hurt me."

Edward looked at her, seeing how scared she was, and he loosened his hold on her arm changing his tone. "It's all right. I'm going to get you away from here. Do you want to go home?"

She didn't have to answer him. After what she'd said about being kicked out of her house, it was obvious she didn't want to stay on the streets.

"I can help you."

Again, she didn't have to speak.

Edward lifted his eyes to Bella, lowering his hand to Bree's and then pulling her out of the motel's parking lot. He knew he was getting on Bella's shit list, but after she'd pulled this, he didn't really care. Let her tie him down and fuck him as hard as she wanted. He wasn't going to be responsible for letting anything happen to a girl she decided to play with for the sake of seeing him uncomfortable. Whether he'd flirted with Siobhan or had a semi-normal conversation it didn't warrant anything like this, and Edward was insulted that Bella believed he would go along with this.

Instead of hailing a cab, Edward pulled Bree along the sidewalk, taking out his phone and calling Charles. With any luck, the car wasn't too far away, and it wouldn't take him long to find Edward even if he was walking along the dark sidewalk back toward the well-lit streets of the world he was accustomed to.

"Sir?" Charles answered.

"I need you to pick me up," Edward ordered.

"Where are you?"

Edward looked around, hardly recognizing the streets as he walked along in the dark.

"We're still on Las Vegas Boulevard," Bree told Edward. She pointed to the street they were headed toward. "That's East Wyoming Avenue."

Edward squeezed her hand, making sure he didn't lose her as he crossed the street. "We're at the south corner of the intersection between South Las Vegas and East Wyoming. I'm — " He looked for a landmark, spotting the few restaurants and closed businesses surrounding him. "I'm in front of a department store."

Charles didn't hesitate. "I'll be right there, sir."

He turned off his phone, slipping it back into his pocket and glancing around for a place to get out of the open. Edward didn't have much money on him, so he couldn't call a cab, and with James less than a block away, he didn't want to take the chance of being confronted again.

"You're Edward?" she asked, recalling his name from only a few moments earlier.

"Yes."

"Why are you doing this for me?" Bree asked, following Edward to a bench in front of the store.

"Someone's got to," he said simply, watching her shiver and pulling off his jacket. She lifted her eyes to his as he draped his jacket over her shoulders, but she didn't say anything else.

Charles arrived at the curb in front of the store in under fifteen minutes, and Edward pulled Bree with him to help her into the back. He looked down the sidewalk, seeing Bella, and thought for a few seconds that he should wait. But she obviously knew her way around the city, or she wouldn't have been able to do all of this. He figured she could also find her way back to the hotel when she finished with whatever it was she was trying to accomplish.

He didn't give it anymore thought, sliding into the back seat with Bree and closing the door.

Charles pulled away from the curb, and Edward finally started to relax.

"Did you know that woman?" Bree asked from her huddled position next to him.

"Yes, I do," he conceded.

"But you didn't ask her to hire me?"

He turned his eyes to hers.

Edward saw they were brown like Bella's, but there was so much more innocence inside them. Her dark brown hair was wavy and pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. The make-up she wore was flashy and should've made her look more grown-up. But her demeanor only made it appear like she was trying to be an adult. It wasn't something any sixteen-year-old girl should have to do. She should've been having sleep-overs with a group of friends or pining away over some boy on the football team. Edward wondered how long she'd really been doing this.

"No."

The space between them was quiet another minute, and she scooted closer to him, grasping onto his arm.

"Thank you," she whispered, laying her head over his shoulder.

Edward didn't usually consider himself a sentimental despite knowing it happened every now and then, but sitting there with Bree made him wonder if this is what it felt like to be the good guy for a change. "You're welcome."

The lights of the Bellagio hotel greeted Edward brightly even at one-forty-five in the morning. His outing hadn't lasted long, and he didn't want to leave again. A valet was waiting when Charles pulled up, and Edward helped Bree from the car.

"Thank you, Charles," he called.

"Yes, sir. I'll be close."

Edward nodded and then smiled at the valet. "Thank you."

The man nodded, closing his door and stepping away from the curb.

People were still in the front lobby of the hotel, and Edward bypassed the front check-in, heading straight to the elevator.

"Why are we here?" Bree asked following his pull.

"I have a room here. You'll stay here tonight, and in the morning, you can call your parents."

"I've only been this far into the city a few times," she replied softly.

"Well, you should be at home."

She didn't reply, and Edward guided her to the elevator.

The suite looked exactly as it had when he left, and Edward showed Bree to the bathroom without looking anywhere else.

"Take a shower. I'll have some clothes brought here for you. Are you hungry?" he asked.

She nodded, blushing.

He nudged her inside the bathroom and closed the door. A man answered the hotel phone, and Edward thought quickly.

"I need the cheese platter and a pitcher of water brought to my suite," he ordered. "And I need someone from Gucci to bring a pair of jeans, shirts and shoes for a sixteen-year-old girl up here as well."

"I'm sorry, sir, but all our fashion stores closed at midnight," the man reported abruptly.

"Then I suppose you'll have to do it yourself," Edward clarified. "I know there's still someone down there. Tell them I'll pay for them to bring it up here. Just do it. The clothes need to be a size two, and bring a pair of shoes. Thank you."

He hung up the phone then, looking around his room and spotting several reminders of what Bella had done to him. His clothes from earlier were still in the floor, and the blood stains were obviously still on the comforter.

Edward pulled the top comforter off, discovering a thinner blanket beneath it and deciding that would have to do.

Bree came out of the bathroom in a hotel robe as a tall, dark-haired man stepped out of the elevator with food and a garment bag over his shoulder.

"I have an Imported and Domestic Cheese with water," he announced. Edward moved to meet him before he could get too far. "I also have clothes for a young girl from Gucci. They put all of it on your bill, Mr. Cullen."

"Thank you," he nodded, giving the man a tip and waiting for him to leave before he turned to Bree. "Eat," he commanded. "Then you can change."

She didn't argue, following him to the table and sitting down silently.

Edward watched her eat for several minutes, noticing how she practically scarfed down half the platter of cheese and bread before she lifted her eyes to see him looking at her. She stopped abruptly and covered her mouth.

"Are you not eating?" she asked over her food.

"I'm not hungry," he informed her. "But you obviously are. Please," he gestured to the food.

She reluctantly began eating again, looking at him after another minute or two but not saying anything.

While she ate, Edward opened the bag of clothes, laying all of it out for her in the bedroom. It was all simple and looked comfortable. However much it cost, Edward didn't care. It was a small price to pay.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do anything?" Bree asked, startling him as she lay her hands on his waist.

He turned to face her, nudging her away again. "I'm sure."

She didn't back down this time, holding his arms tighter and pushing up to her toes to kiss him again. She tasted different — clean. Her breath was warm and smelled sweet. But she was a kid. No matter what she'd been told by James, it wasn't right for her to offer herself to Edward like a lamb being led to a slaughterhouse.

Her tongue touched his before he stopped her again.

"Please," he whispered. "This is wrong. You're a kid. And I'm not anymore. I don't need you to do anything for me. I just want to get you home. Okay?"

She dropped to the heels of her feet, sighing softly but still holding him. "She was horrible," Bree said of Bella. "And she told me to be seductive. But that isn't what you want, is it? You don't have many friends, do you?"

Normally, Edward would've come up with some witty comeback. He didn't usually let anyone in to see who he really was — not even Bella. But something about Bree made him want to have at least one other person who knew the real Edward Cullen.

"I don't have many friends," he confirmed. "And I never have. My father wasn't the type of man who wanted me to choose my own friends. I didn't particularly like any of his friends, so I usually spent most of my free time alone. And I'm not good at making friends."

"Do you want your own friends?" she asked earnestly.

"Sometimes," he replied gently.

She leaned up to kiss him again, but he stopped her.

"It's late," he whispered. "You need to sleep, and I'll be on the couch."

He turned to leave, but she stopped him, lifting her hands to his face. "Will you stay with me?" she pleaded. "Just hold me."

Again, Edward would've normally denied himself the closeness she was presenting him with, not to mention she was only sixteen. But something in her eyes convinced him it would be okay. He took her hands in his and nodded. She smiled and turned to the clothes, lifting the jeans and one of the shirts from the bed so she could change.

Edward waited for her, laying in the bed with her in his arms and relaxing the way he had in the car. He was asleep in minutes.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

The sun peeked through a few wispy clouds in the otherwise blue sky as Carlisle stood in his office. Despite having an enlightening conversation with Jasper, Carlisle couldn't shut his eyes without seeing Edward sitting in the interrogation room handcuffed to the table. Knowing his son was in so much trouble, and that it was partially his fault made it impossible for him to relax.

It had never occurred to Carlisle that Edward didn't want to follow in his footsteps and work in the office. Jasper had jumped at the opportunity, and that had only made it more intuitive to offer the same thing to Edward. He thought Edward would've expressed a desire to do something else if it wasn't enough or something he didn't want to do.

The phone rang from the desk, interrupting his thoughts, and he moved to his chair answering the call as he sat down.

"This is Carlisle."

"You have two days," Siobhan answered. "And it's going to cost you in the long run. But I convinced them to wait — to have all their facts straight. Think you can get an answer out of your son by then?"

Carlisle glanced over the photos and police reports on his desk. It was going to take so much work to extract information out of Edward, and there was so much of it he didn't yet possess. "I know I'll do everything I can," he assured her. "Did you tell Liam?"

She chuckled. "Of course not," she chastised. "He would never appreciate that I continued to help you at all, much less your son."

"You were always too good for him," Carlisle admired. "I still don't understand why you—"

"We both know why, Carlisle. And it's not worth anything to continue wondering. We've dealt with this. We should move on. Call me if you need anything else, but only if you absolutely need to."

He laughed to himself. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Siobhan."

"You're welcome," she said sincerely.

He turned off the phone, tossing it onto the desk and sitting back in his chair. Two days. Was that enough time?

Would the police from Las Vegas show up before then?

What would Carlisle say to Edward for his son to tell him what had happened?

After a few minutes of sitting, Carlisle gathered up the photos and papers, closing them up in the folder and leaving his office swiftly.

The house was mostly silent other than a few of the maids moving through the corridors, gathering laundry and otherwise performing their usual duties. Carlisle knew the kitchen was alive with activity, but breakfast wouldn't be for another couple of hours. He wanted to check on Edward before he saw the rest of his family.

A maid passed Carlisle on his way to Lucy's room, but he did nothing to acknowledge her the way he usually did. The door was cracked open, but when Carlisle stepped inside, he discovered her in bed alone. The room smelled faintly of chicken and bread, and Carlisle knew she'd at least eaten, but he was confused. If Edward wasn't there, where was he?

"Sir," a maid called from the door. "Do you need anything?"

Carlisle turned to her. "Where's my son?"

"I believe he's in his room, sir," she answered blankly.

He didn't ask her which son he was referring to though he was sure she was thinking of Edward, leaving Lucy's room and crossing the house to where Edward's room was situated. Before he even arrived, he heard voices inside. He stopped outside the door, recognizing Edward's voice, but also Angela's.

"We can't do this anymore," Edward said softly.

"What are we doing?" Angela asked.

"You know what I mean."

Carlisle stepped closer, looking through the crack in the door. Edward and Angela sat on the bed, his son only covered by the sheets of his bed while Angela sat close to him in her uniform.

"All this hiding," Edward clarified. "And last night was different. You and I — We didn't just have sex last night. We made love, didn't we?"

It looked like Angela was fidgeting from Carlisle was standing, and she wasn't looking at Edward. Carlisle could tell it was uncomfortable for her to sit there with his son like that.

"Look at me," Edward commanded.

She lifted her head, and he laid his hand over her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I shouldn't have done this to you. But I was young and stupid, and I thought that if I had one person I could — I used you, and I'm truly sorry. Angela, I — don't — "

"I don't need you to do this," she insisted, rising from the bed away from him. "I knew what I was getting myself into. And I meant what I said last night. It isn't okay what happened to you. I might not know the whole story, but I've seen enough. You should tell someone."

Edward watched her with a mixture of confusion and annoyance on his face.

"I'll bring your breakfast to you," she stated before she turned to leave the room.

Carlisle stepped away from the door, listening to her step across his room and then watching as she opened the door to see him there.

Her face flushed deep red, and she looked into Edward's room. She tried to speak, but Carlisle shook his head before gesturing with his eyes for her to leave. Angela didn't argue, stepping away from Edward's door and hurrying away with her hand over her mouth.

"I know you're out there," Edward yelled, prompting Carlisle to step into the doorway.

He faced his son more resolutely than he had in years, remembering the last time he'd seen Edward and Angela in a compromising situation.

"Eavesdropping now, Father?"

Carlisle remained unfazed. "If I didn't, I wouldn't know anything about you," he shot back. "But I suppose we're both unlucky I haven't done what I should've done a long time ago."

"What? Kicked me out?"

Edward's words stung more than he realized, and for a long moment, Carlisle couldn't move. He'd never imagined he would be at odds so badly with his son now, but it was time to do something about it. He moved forward uncertain of what he was doing, sitting on the bed where Angela had been and looking in Edward's eyes for the first time since before dinner.

The gold-green tint of Edward's eyes was clearer this morning, indicating he'd at least gotten a little sleep, and despite obviously having not spent the night alone, it looked like he'd rested enough to be his usual disrespectful self. But Carlisle wouldn't let that stop him.

For the first time since Edward was sixteen years old, Carlisle leaned forward and put his arms around his son. It had been almost eight years since he'd shown Edward any real affection, and he felt like he'd paid the ultimate price for it. Now, he needed to try and fix that.

Edward didn't return his father's gesture for nearly a minute, but Carlisle didn't let go, lifting his palm to the back of Edward's head and squeezing him tighter. Carlisle could still remember the last time he'd held Edward in his arms. After losing Esme's sister Elizabeth, to whom Edward had been especially close, his son had been nearly inconsolable. Carlisle had held him all night after being in the hospital nearly two days. The scar on Edward's chest was a constant, if not glaring reminder of how far apart they'd become. It was a little awkward for them. It had been so long since they'd been this close

"I'm sorry," Carlisle whispered. "I never meant for this to happen. What can I do? I'll do whatever you need me to do."

Slowly, Edward lifted his hands to his father's shoulders, grasping onto his shirt. For a moment, Carlisle felt like this wouldn't be as impossible as he believed to find out _something_. Then Edward lifted his head.

"You can stop pretending to be the father I needed ten years ago," he spat harshly.

Carlisle fell silent as Edward shoved him away, but he refused to let go of his son's arms. "You're angry with me. And you have every right to be. But was I so horrible to you that you couldn't tell me when I was making you do something you didn't want to do?" he begged.

"It doesn't matter now," Edward grit out between his clenched teeth.

"Yes, it does," Carlisle argued.

His son dropped his head, gripping his father's shirt and still trying to push him away. Carlisle lifted his hands to Edward's face, and after another minute, he lifted his head again.

"What did Jasper tell you?"

"He told me you applied to Juilliard."

"Did he tell you I would've left and never come back?" Edward cried. "Did he tell you I was packing when you put your foot down and ordered me to go to Harvard? Did he tell you?"

Carlisle flinched as his son shook him. "I'm sorry."

Edward wrapped his hands around his father's arms, almost pushing him away again, but he surprised Carlisle even further by allowing him to pull him closer again. For another minute, Carlisle was uncertain what to do. It didn't take much for him to realize that not only did his son need him, but he also needed someone to understand what he was going through. Carlisle had never been accused of rape or kidnapping, but it was obvious Edward felt alone.

"This is partially my fault," Carlisle said, cradling Edward against him. "I should've paid more attention to what you did when you came home — not just what you said. I'm sorry I made it difficult for you to be honest with me. I never wanted this. And I don't want this to be the last time we talk like this. I need you to talk to me, Edward. Please."

The room was silent outside Edward's sobs, and for another couple of minutes, Carlisle thought Edward would remain as tight-lipped as he'd been since coming back.

Edward leaned back, slouching his shoulders, releasing Carlisle penitently. "If I tell you this, you have to swear you won't tell Mother. I don't want her knowing this. Please."

Carlisle nodded, relieved that he was finally getting something from Edward. "I swear."

"I — "

"Sir," Angela called from the door. "Mr. Denali is here to see you."

Though she didn't indicate who she was speaking to, Carlisle knew Eleazar was there to see him about Edward, and he realized what this meant. He turned his eyes to Edward.

"You should wake Lucy," he suggested. "She'll need breakfast along with the rest of us, and we can't keep her in the west wing forever."

Uncharacteristically but sincerely, Carlisle lifted his lips to Edward's forehead, leaning back to look into his son's eyes. After a few seconds, Edward nodded, and Carlisle rose to follow Angela out of the room.

A few more maids were in the corridor, moving about the house now that there was another guest in the house, and Carlisle quickly made it to the front foyer where Eleazar was waiting patiently.

At 5'11", with dark brown hair and intense golden brown eyes, Eleazar Denali was only a little intimidating to Carlisle after all the years they'd known each other — both in the courtroom and outside it. Whenever Eleazar visited, it had always been as a social call. The last time was at Christmas, before the mess between Tanya and Edward. Though it was only a few months after that _misunderstanding_, Carlisle and Eleazar had stayed in touch.

This wasn't a social call.

As the District Attorney in the city of Chicago, Eleazar had a responsibility to its citizens, but as Edward's father, Carlisle had no such obligations, especially now that it was clear why Eleazar was here.

"Carlisle," he greeted with a genuinely sad smile. "I would say 'good morning,' but I don't know if it qualifies at the moment. I spoke with Sam just half an hour ago. A plea bargain, really?"

"Have you spoken to the police in Las Vegas?" Carlisle asked, honestly inquiring, but needing to know if arrangements had been made for Edward's extradition.

"I was on the phone with them most of the night," Eleazar confirmed.

Carlisle gestured toward his office. "Please follow me," he requested. "We should talk privately."

No argument came from his old friend, and as they stepped into the parlor that led to Carlisle's office, he looked up the stairs, wondering about Edward and hoping they would have a little more time to talk before it became impossible.

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><p><strong>Now. Did we get a few more answers? Do we have a few more questions? Only time will tell. <strong>

**I have access to internet, so I'll hopefully be updating much sooner than this last time. Please bear with me.**

**Thanks to everyone who's read and the few who've reviewed.**

**Until next time.  
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	6. Lines Blurring

**I'm so, so sorry for this chapter being so late. As lame as it sounds, both me and my beta got stuck in the roller coaster called life! I was bed-ridden sick and had no internet for nearly two weeks, and she's in the thick of school. And it looks like I'll be flying solo from now on, so I hope I don't let any of you down with the standard we've had so far.**

**I have to thank S R Devastate for helping me up to this point, and I hope she finds her grove back at school. She's an awesome beta.**

**Anyway, the only warnings this time around is for language, which gets a little hairy, but nothing too bad.**

**More at the bottom. Go on! Read.  
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* * *

><p><strong>Lines Blurring<strong>

**Back then.**

The first thing Edward knew upon waking in the warm, comfortable bed was that he'd slept peacefully for the first time since before he'd gone to college. And actually, it had really been a good ten years since he'd woken like this. It had been ten years since he'd felt so at peace with himself.

The second thing he knew was the warm body inside his arms, and the reality of his situation came crashing back as he opened his eyes to the lavish bedroom inside his hotel room in Las Vegas. Dull pain throbbed up his torso from the bandaged cuts over his sides, and now his neck pulsed uncomfortably through the base of his skull and down into his shoulder where Bella had bitten him.

It still astonished him that someone so tiny could cause so much damage. In only a few short hours, she'd not only turned his life upside down by forcing him to leave her on the street while he took a strange girl into his care, but she'd also made him realize how wrong he'd been choosing to do this. Edward could've done anything else to antagonize his father's patience. He could've gone to Monte Carlo and spent the night with an exotic woman or disappeared in Singapore for a few days before showing up for breakfast like everything was normal.

But this was too much. Edward couldn't take this back. He'd bought clothes and jewelry and pushed Liam's buttons, and even worse than that, Edward had flirted with Siobhan — after everything that had happened with his father.

A little moan found its way to his ears, bringing Bree's presence to the front of his thoughts, and Edward felt how close he was holding her against him. Her slender waist was completely encircled in his arms as her chest laid flush against his. Slim legs entangled with his own from her thighs to her ankles, and her small hands gently grasped handfuls of his shirt. How long had it been since she'd slept so peacefully?

She pulled in a waking breath, pressing her forehead to his chin. "Morning," she whispered.

Edward squeezed her gently. "Good morning."

The silent room slowly brightened with the rising sun, and reality began to set in even more. Edward rose to his elbow, lowering his eyes to hers and touching her face lightly.

"You slept," he marveled.

"I was sleepy."

A genuine smile crossed his face. "Apparently."

She lifted her hand to his face, touching his cheek and then his jaw. "You still don't want me to do anything?" she asked quietly.

He eased a strand of her hair from her eyes. "No," he assured her. "And now we need to get you home." He glanced back at the clock and saw it was almost nine a.m. Then he looked at her. "How long has it been since you were home?"

Pain creased her forehead, and her eyebrows knit together in desperation. Edward thought for a few seconds that she wouldn't answer him. She took her eyes from him still gripping his shirt with her hands.

"A few months," she admitted, surprising him.

He took her chin in his thumb and index finger, lifting her head so she would look at him. "They must be so worried about you," he insisted.

She turned her head away, shutting her eyes. "They kicked me out, remember?" she spat, the softness of the morning fading quickly.

Edward sat up away from her, rising from the bed and moving to the window. "I'm sure they didn't want you to be gone like this," he hoped. "How did it happen?"

She sat up then, her head hung low as she fidgeted steadily. "It was just a misunderstanding," she stated vaguely.

"And for that, you haven't gone home in a few months?"

"So I'm supposed to admit they're right?" she exclaimed. "All because they wouldn't listen to me? Well, forget that shit. If that's what I have to do, then I'd rather be on the streets. At least that way I know I'm telling them they were wrong."

She scooted off the bed then, moving to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Edward crossed the room reluctantly. He knew what he was doing in Las Vegas and somehow, he understood how similar her situation was to his. He'd been having misunderstandings with his father for years now, and each time, it had always ended with Edward storming out of the house in a fit of rage. He'd never wanted to admit his father was right about anything he'd done — even if most of the time, he had been.

"I know all about misunderstandings," he admitted through the bathroom door, hearing her inside crying. "Believe me when I say I've had my fair share. And I was just like you — stubborn, unwavering, absolutely certain I was right and he was wrong. But it was never worth staying gone. It was never enough to keep me from going home. I can see that whatever happened wasn't just something they misunderstood, but it was also something you weren't able to explain. I understand. Trust me, I do. But if you don't admit that maybe you were to blame too, then this feeling you're experiencing will only get worse. I know all about that too."

The interior of the bathroom became silent, and Edward turned his back to the door jam, glancing around the room and feeling incredibly stupid. What had he been thinking doing this now? All because his father had kept a very important detail about Edward's life from him. No matter what his father said or did, it wouldn't change what Edward felt. And he would always have that, even if he gave in eventually.

Edward didn't want to give up any of the freedom he needed. But this wasn't the way to show his father how wrong he'd been. There had to be another way.

"I'm not trying to force you go home," he said through the door. "But you shouldn't be out here doing this. You should be doing things kids your age are doing. And your parents are supposed to be protecting you until you're ready to be in the world on your own. If you don't want to go home, we'll figure something else out. You can't go back to James. I've seen his kind enough to know it won't end very well. And I don't want that for you. Please."

He rarely pleaded without anyone for anything. Edward knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let this sixteen-year-old girl walk back onto the streets without at least trying to help her — however she needed him to.

Edward stood there patiently for as long as he could before the need to open the door overwhelmed him. His hand was around the door handle just as it turned and then opened. Bree emerged slowly, tears in her eyes as she looked at him with shame painted across her face.

"I'll find somewhere for you to go," he swore. "But if you don't go home, there won't be many places where he won't find you."

His words scared her even more than she already was, and without saying a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. She laid her head over his chest, her ear barely coming up to his heart. _Her heart. _Edward held her close, understanding without needing her to tell him anything.

"I'll get you some breakfast," he whispered. "And then we'll go. Everything's gonna be okay. You have my word."

She held him tighter, and after a little while, he turned with her in his arm to walk her into the living room.

French toast and scrambled eggs, two things Edward hadn't eaten in months, were on the menu for breakfast as he and Bree sat together in the living room/dining area of his hotel room. She was quiet for a while, and Edward realized she was reluctant to give him any information about her parents. He didn't want to make her do anything she didn't want to do, but even though he'd just met her, he only wanted what was best for her. And in thinking that, he had to take his own advice. As soon as he had her home with her family, he would make his own plans to go home.

"I have a house," he said over his food. "In Macau."

For the first time since she'd begun to eat, Bree spoke quietly. "Where is that?"

"Near Hong Kong. You'll be safe there."

"What about my parents?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"I can help them too," he promised. "You can trust me."

She looked at her plate. "I never thought leaving home would cause something like this."

Edward's feelings mirrored her words, much more than she could've realized. "First, you have to go home," he pleaded. "Your parents have to know that you're okay. And then I'll do what I can for all of you. Please believe me."

A small smile spread across her face. "I do," she nodded. "I guess I'm just scared."

He got the impression from her behavior that more had happened than what she was telling him, and he wanted to know what it was before he took her home. Was it drugs? Or was it a boy? Had she been with someone her parents hadn't approved of?

"Bree," he said quietly.

"Yeah?"

He chose his words as carefully as he could, feeling like he was invading her privacy for needing to know. "How did you end up like this?" he asked delicately.

The smile on her face faded, and her shoulders fell. She bit her lip and dropped her eyes to her lap.

Edward lifted his hands in concession. "It's okay," he insisted. "It's not my business. I just thought if I knew, I might be able to help explain. Parents can be strange creatures. They think they're doing what's best for you, but they never see how they're hurting you. And they say they only want you to be happy, but it takes a fucking act of God for them to see that it's up to you to decide what that is. I get it. But they're your parents. And they always will be. No matter where you are or what you've done. And you have realize that's okay. It's just the way things are sometimes. I understand."

Still, she fidgeted, turning her eyes to the window.

Taking a deep breath, Edward tried again. "Bree — "

"His name was Diego," she said quietly. It sounded painful for her to say it.

Edward didn't want to press her, but then she spoke.

"I met him in school," she said of Diego. "He was a senior. Tall, handsome, dark hair, dreamy eyes. And Spanish. He was an exchange student from Barcelona, and he was in my drama class. The teacher paired us together for a project, and we had to study a Shakespeare play for our semester exams. We chose Romeo and Juliet. It was just a school project, but my parents didn't like that I was with him. They didn't like that he wasn't from around here. And it didn't matter how nice he was to them."

"How did you fall in love with him?" Edward asked.

She clammed up again for a minute, and tears filled her eyes before he stood up from his chair. He held her in his arms differently from any girl he ever had, and when she didn't say anything back, he didn't need to hear any more.

"My mother walked in on us while we were reciting the balcony scene," she cried against his chest. She drew in a ragged breath, shaking and crying a little harder. "She went crazy when she saw how close we were sitting. Up until then, whenever we'd practiced at my house, she'd left us alone. But she threw him out without letting either of us explain that it was all still so new. He was so nice and gracious. He tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen."

Edward listened silently, holding her as tightly to him as he could. It wasn't exactly like what his father would've done, but he understood about her mother not listening.

"We still saw each other at school," she went on. "But one of the other boys in school told my father we were still in class together. He tried to get Diego expelled, but he was just an exchange student. All the school could do was send him back to Barcelona. They couldn't do anything about our drama class. The teacher tried to take responsibility for the whole thing, but Diego wouldn't let her. He couldn't go anywhere until the end of the semester, and his host family kicked him out after my father told them what he thought was going on."

She lifted her hands to his chest, leaning back without looking at him. "I gave him all the money I had that was supposed to be for college," she explained. "But it was barely a thousand dollars. We tried to find someone who would let him stay with them until January, but my father told all the parents at school. No one would help."

Edward felt the anger inside him grow a hundred times the more she told him, and he was afraid to hear the rest. Why was she telling him all this? It sounded like she hadn't told anyone despite so much time passing. He didn't want her to think he would judge anything she'd said or done for a boy she'd obviously cared about.

"Motels would only last a little while," she revealed, "and he couldn't call home for money. His parents traveled a lot, and he had no way of getting in touch with them. He was all alone, and I couldn't let my father do that to him anymore. We hadn't even had sex yet!" she exclaimed. "And my parents were acting like I was Hester Prynne! It was so fucking unfair! I never did anything wrong."

Her tears subsided, replaced by fury and indignation. Edward cradled her face in his hands, pleading with her to look at him, and she wrapped her hands around his arms, whispering as she continued.

"That's when he met James. He said he could help Diego until January when he could go back to Spain. It was only a few weeks away by then, and we figured it would be okay. I didn't know what James was, but I trusted Diego to do what was right for him to be safe. We didn't know James was a — I don't even know what to call him now. But I was skipping school to help Diego, and my parents found out what I'd been doing. They tried to ground me — to keep me from seeing him ever again. And I couldn't bear that. They told me if I left to go to him that I shouldn't come back. So I didn't."

More tears filled her eyes, and she clenched her teeth. "A week and a half later, Diego was killed in a fight with one of James' other men," she sobbed. "Trying to protect me! And I didn't have anywhere else go. I couldn't go home. I didn't have any more money. I didn't know what else I was supposed to do."

Edward tried to breath, to show her he was still listening, but he couldn't. How could something so innocent as two people falling in love lead to this? It didn't make any sense. Still holding her face, he pulled her into his chest, holding her as she began crying again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling more helpless than he ever had and knowing there was nothing he could do to ease the pain she was feeling.

Silence filled the space around them until she stopped crying. She pressed her ear to his chest, and Edward could feel his heart pounding so hard. The injustice of it all made him so angry. How was he supposed to fix something like this?

Bree leaned away from him then, breathing deep and looking at him again. "It's okay," she assured him. "I accepted it a long time ago. I guess I just needed to tell someone about him. I don't even have any pictures of him, but you remind me of him."

Edward laughed nervously. "I'm sure I pale in comparison to him," he shook his head.

"Well, you're nothing like James," she stated plainly. "You're not cruel or vindictive. I can see it in your eyes. So no matter why you're helping me, I'm grateful. I don't know what my parents will do. I don't even know if they'll want to see me. And I'm worried."

"Well," he began, "no one would blame you there. Finish eating. I'll change, and then we'll go."

"Okay," she agreed.

They stood there a moment, and he leaned down, kissing her forehead gently. She grasped onto his shirt as tight as she could, waiting until he leaned away to step up on her toes to kiss his lips.

Edward was surprised despite the other two times she'd kissed him. But now he understood. Was it possible no one had kissed her in three months? She was still in pain from losing someone she'd loved, no matter how short a time he'd been in her life, and she hadn't healed. It didn't matter what she said about acceptance.

Cautiously, he allowed her to kiss him longer than the other times she had, waiting until she stopped to let her go.

"Thank you," she smiled sadly.

He smiled back, stepping away to leave the living room.

Edward took his time changing from the clothes he'd worn out of the hotel the night before, remembering every detail of the encounter he'd had with James and not wanting a repeat performance. He changed into a pair of jeans and another white shirt catching a glimpse of the thin, pink scar that lined his chest from the hollow of his neck to just above his navel. He didn't usually pay this kind of attention to it, but the last two days — the last several months really — had gotten him thinking about what had started all of this. Would helping Bree really make up for the mess he'd already made? Edward owed it to a few people to at least try.

After changing, he gathered up all the clothes he'd purchased for Bree and returned to the living room.

"Ready?"

She finished the last of her orange juice and joined him at the elevator. He pulled out his phone and pressed the "down" button as Charles answered.

"Yes, sir?"

"Where are you?" Edward asked as he and Bree stepped onto the elevator.

"Just down the street."

"I need you to come pick me up," Edward requested. "We're going to Henderson."

"I'll be right there, sir."

Edward turned off his phone, glancing at Bree to see her staring at him with wide eyes.

"I checked Missing Persons last night while you were in the shower," he admitted sheepishly. "I didn't know if you would tell me where they lived, and I wanted to have at least some idea of where to take you. Was that okay?"

She looked away, not speaking for half a minute until she muttered, "Yeah."

The streets of Las Vegas were still heavy with traffic despite it being ten-thirty. Edward gave Charles the address to Bree's house, and once it was programmed into the GPS of the limousine, the inside of the car got quiet. Edward kept thinking about Bella, and he wondered where she was. He couldn't imagine what she was doing, and it hadn't occurred to him to call her to make sure she was okay. After what she'd done to him, he didn't care anymore. But he knew he would have to deal with her sometime in the near future. It was just inevitable at this point.

"Will you go in with me?" Bree asked suddenly.

Edward looked at her as they sat next to each other. He'd heard her loud and clear, but he was stunned. She didn't know him. And her parents sure as hell wouldn't know who he was. But she trusted him — maybe a little too much. Still, now that he was in the process of making sure she and her parents were safe, he decided it was probably better that he actually speak to her parents before explaining to them how much danger they could be in. And they only had themselves to blame for it.

He scooted closer to her, eased his arm around her and pulled her closer. She wrapped her arms around his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. "Of course," he whispered.

She held him tighter, and again, the inside of the limousine fell quiet.

The sun wasn't as high as he'd thought it should be, but it was only April. It didn't matter how much time had gone by. He was finished with this entire endeavor. All he'd really wanted was to show his father that he could do what he wanted, and no one could stop him. And then he'd met Bella. Though he'd only known her a few months, Bella had injected so much chaos into his life. She'd somehow made him do things he never would've done, and this trip was a perfect example. After playing around with each other and pushing each other's buttons, Edward had decided it was the perfect time to do some real damage to his father's plan's, but Edward had never expected this. How could he have?

"I hope they're happy to see me," Bree whispered, pulling Edward from his thoughts.

Already, the high-rise buildings and casinos were giving way to smaller establishments, and Henderson was only about twenty minutes away.

Edward hugged her closer, feeling the need to kiss her head. "I hope so too," he whispered back.

In the six months since Edward had last been in Las Vegas, nothing much had changed. No new casinos had sprung up. No businesses had folded. He hadn't expected anything to change, but in the last forty-eight hours, Edward felt like so much had changed for him. It seemed only right that the outside world should have changed too.

Passed the airport, small neighborhoods began to crop up, along with shopping centers that were more community oriented. Edward couldn't remember the last time he'd lived in a neighborhood with other people. From the time he'd been four years old, his family had lived on the massive estate inherited from his grandfather. Since then, Edward had grown up with servants, cooks and a butler. He wondered if he would ever again know what having neighbors felt like.

"You look sad," Bree noted from his side. She sat up, pressing her small hands into his side and unknowingly eliciting a soft hiss from him as her fingers found one of his cuts. She almost instantly pulling away. "Sorry."

Edward exhaled roughly, clenching his fist and biting his lip against the pain. "It's okay," he reassured her. "And it's a long story."

A silent moment passed, and she spoke again. "Tell me," she pleaded.

He glanced at her and then at the houses as they passed by. He didn't know where to start.

Before he could say anything, she scooted further away and folded her arms around her chest.

"Forget it."

He turned his head to look at her, remembering everything she'd told him and thinking how personal it was for her to tell him everything about Diego. And here he was clamming up. It was rude, and he knew it. But his life was so fucked up. It wasn't right to bring her down with him. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

They passed a school that was currently in session based on the amount of cars surrounding it, and Edward saw a look of longing and sadness wash over Bree's face. She began crying again as he watched, and without saying anything, he closed the space between them and pulled her into his arms for what felt like the fourth or fifth time that morning. Though she didn't push him away, she didn't return his embrace. Was she thinking about Diego? Edward felt stupid wondering if it still hurt to be in a place where she'd known him and loved him only to have him taken away. Edward didn't have anyone like that in his life — well, he hadn't since he was nineteen anyway.

"Sir," Charles called into the back. "We're nearly there. Do you want me to stop on the curb or should I pull into the driveway?"

Edward leaned back to look at Bree, and after a short moment, he spoke. "Pull into the driveway if you can. I'll be going in with her."

"Yes, sir."

Another five minutes passed silently, and Charles slowed down just outside a sprawling one-level burnt orange house. Tan and red bricks made a random pattern along the front, and the shrubs near the ground were all manicured perfectly. Green grass shimmered in the mid-morning light, and sprinklers shot water in all directions. The roof made the house stand out amongst the other smaller, paler houses, and the front lawn gave Edward the impression that someone had been hired to keep it immaculate. It all reminded him so much of his own home.

The door opened, and Edward moved to get out. Suddenly, Bree grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Wait," she pleaded.

He turned to face her, allowing her to take his hand. "What's wrong?"

"I don't, um — I don't think I should do this."

"Why?"

She looked outside, and Edward scooted a little closer.

"Bree," he said, feeling himself slip into a mode he wasn't familiar with. "I need to ask you something. It's important." She bit her lip and nodded. "Did you and Diego . . . ever . . ."

Tears filled her eyes the way they had in the hotel room, and her head fell until her chin was against her chest. "Once," she confessed. "It was after we — he met James."

"And did James ever — touch you?"

She lifted her head. "No," she said quickly. She paused for a minute. "He said he was saving me for someone special. And then he met her."

Edward backed away from her a little. "Bella talked to him?"

Bree nodded.

His mind racing, Edward glanced back at Charles as he held the door open. "It'll be okay," Edward promised. He took her hands in his and pulled her out of the limousine. "I'll do this with you. You'll be okay."

She didn't argue with him again, sighing and stepping out of the car.

Edward pulled her along the front walkway, grasping her hand and keeping her close, but the moment he stepped in front of the door, Bree hid behind him, pressing her forehead against the middle of his back.

Edward hesitated for a little bit, glancing at her and then reaching for the doorbell.

A minute passed, and the door opened to reveal a petite, dark-haired woman in a long, white pencil skirt and a satin, beige blouse. Her hair had thick curls and was to her shoulders, and the moment her bright brown eyes landed on Edward, the slight smile on her face faded completely. She stood up straight and cleared her throat.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Marilyn Tanner?"

Her eyes dropped to his hands and then flicked back up to his eyes. "Yes?"

Gently, Edward pulled Bree from behind him, and her mother's eyes widened.

"Bree?"

"Mom?"

Marilyn's eyes filled with tears, and she stepped over the threshold, reaching for her daughter.

"Oh, my God," she cried, holding Bree tight in her arms. "Oh, God. Oh, thank God."

Edward stepped out of the way, feeling a swell in his chest and thinking for a moment everything would be okay.

That was when a tall, light-brown haired man appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a light blue button-down shirt and black pants. "Mary, what's going on?" he demanded.

Marilyn looked at him with Bree still in her arms.

He didn't smile — didn't really do much more than glare. Half a minute passed, and he stepped forward, taking Bree from Marilyn's arms and shaking her a little too roughly.

"Where the hell have you been?" he shouted.

"John," Marilyn chided.

"It's been three damn months," John yelled.

Edward watched, confused. He moved forward without thinking, pulling John's hands from Bree's arms.

"Let go of her," he commanded, holding Bree against him.

"Who the hell are you?" John asked, still yelling.

Edward did nothing to soften his tone or his words. "I'm the one who found your daughter on the streets three months after you kicked her out. I'm the one who kept her from getting raped and involved in drugs because you railroaded an 18-year-old boy she happened to fall in love with — because he wasn't the same color as you. And I'm the one who fed her and clothed her last night when she was scared she wouldn't ever see the light of day again."

John's mouth fell open, and Edward glanced at Bree.

"Right now, I don't think you have any right to touch her like that," Edward stated plainly.

John planted his hands on his waist, setting his jaw. "And exactly who the fuck are you to tell me about my rights as her father?"

"Excuse me, but you stopped being her father when you stopped listening to her and protecting her from the world she found herself in," Edward persisted. "And by doing that, you've put your entire family in danger."

"John," Marilyn chastised. "That's enough. This has gone on for too long. Are you really so stubborn to risk never seeing her again? Please."

"You don't know what she did," John spat.

"Actually, sir, neither do you," Edward interrupted. "And it's probably better that you don't pretend you do just so you won't have to admit you were wrong."

John clenched his jaws, but he said nothing against what Edward told him.

Marilyn stepped closer to Edward as he held Bree close. "Please, Mr.?"

"Cullen," he nodded. "Edward Cullen."

She reached for him. "Please, come inside. I haven't seen my daughter in three months, and I, for one, will not risk her leaving again."

Edward didn't argue, easing his arm further around Bree and following Marilyn into the house. It took a minute, but John finally followed them and shut the front door.

Marilyn led them into a large white living room. Two large, overstuffed couches set in the very center of the room with a long, mahogany coffee table between them. Four more brilliant white arm chairs stood adjacent to the couches. Edward pulled Bree to a couch, and Marilyn followed them, reaching for her daughter again and kissing the top of her head.

"Your hair's longer," Marilyn noted sadly. "Are you taller?"

"I don't think so," Bree cried against her mother's shoulder.

Marilyn looked across from them to where her husband had settled. Then she looked at Edward. "Thank you," she mouthed.

Edward also looked at John, seeing his mouth set in a thin line as he watched them. There was no need to say anything to Marilyn. And plus, the more complicated things weren't too far off from needing to be done.

"I'm so sorry," Marilyn whispered to Bree. "I was being so stupid. And I was scared. You're my baby. I didn't want you to grow up too fast. I wanted you to be mine for just a little while longer."

"I'll always be yours, Mom. That won't ever change. I was scared too."

Marilyn leaned back, taking her daughter's face in her hands and looking into her eyes. There was moment of silence, and then she spoke again. "Where's Diego?"

John huffed loudly at the mention of Diego's name, and Edward watched the man's hands clench into fists. It was clear nothing had changed for Bree's father, despite her being gone so long.

When Bree didn't answer her mother, Marilyn looked at Edward, a mixture of fear and dread filling her eyes without him having to say anything.

"Dear God," she whispered. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry," she pleaded with her daughter. "I never thought — "

In an instant, Bree appeared to have been in her mother's arms long enough, pushing her away and scooting closer to Edward.

"There's nothing you can do about it now," Bree said coldly.

"But I never meant for — "

"What did you think was going to happen?" Bree cried. "After everything the two of you did. No one would help him! And when I tried, you threw me out! It doesn't fucking matter if you're sorry. It's too late for your pathetic apologies. And I won't care if I never see either of you again if this is how it's going to be around here if I come home."

She stood abruptly, leaving the living room and making it to the front door before Edward called for her.

"You can't be one sided about this anymore," he reminded her. "And you can't be a child about it now. If they still believe what they want, prove them wrong."

Bree didn't move for as long as it took Edward to meet her at the door. He didn't say anything, taking her hands in his and nearly willing her to listen to him. He wanted her to believe he would be here with her the whole time — because he wasn't going anywhere until he knew she was okay. And when that was done, he would call anyone he could to get them away from Las Vegas.

They stood at the front door until Marilyn stood up and moved across the room to them. She turned Bree to face her, glancing over her shoulder at John before she spoke.

"It doesn't matter to me what happened," she told Bree. "And it doesn't matter to me how long this takes. I let you down, and I don't want to do it again. Sweetie, please. I know I didn't listen to you before, and I should have. I should've trusted you, and — Please. We'll talk as long as it takes for you to tell me everything. And I am sorry about Diego. He was never anything but nice, and I let someone else's opinion of him cloud the way I should've felt for myself. I won't do that again. I promise."

Bree looked at Edward, pleading with him silently. He nodded, and she looked at her mother, agreeing with a nod of her own.

Marilyn looked at John, but she didn't say anything, pulling Bree from the front door and through the house toward the back.

The house wasn't decorated lavishly, but a large oak table occupied the dining room, surrounded by ten matching chairs. Each wall leading to the back of the house was filled with family pictures in frames that matched the dining room set. The house smelled faintly of chocolate and cinnamon, and it reminded Edward of cookies from when he'd been a boy.

Two bedrooms were situated opposite each other at the end of the hallway — both with big white beds in the center of the rooms. Bree's room — the one on the left — was decorated in shades of pink and purple, and her four-poster bed had a lavender skirt around it. Her walls were painted a brilliant lilac, and the throw pillows on her bed were dark fuchsia. It reminded Edward of Rosalie's room when she'd been sixteen. The colors would be ingrained in his brain for the rest of his life.

More importantly, the room looked like it hadn't been touched in three months.

Marilyn sat Bree on the bed, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Everything's going to be okay. And don't worry about your father. It doesn't matter what he says. I can see in your eyes that I was wrong to think all those things he said were true. I just didn't know how to react. Like I said, you're my baby. I'll always want you to be my baby. No matter how old you get."

Bree nodded. "I know, Mom." She glanced at Edward. "But I needed you. And you weren't there for me."

Marilyn squeezed her hands. "I know, baby. And I promise I'm going to do anything I can to make it up to you. We'll — We'll talk all night and you can tell me everything about Diego that I missed. You can tell me everything that happened, and I swear I won't think anything bad. You're my daughter, Bree. I have to know you're okay — even if I was partially to blame for what happened. Please. I want to know it."

Bree pulled in a deep breath, looking at her mother's hands around hers and then beginning quietly.

Edward listened to the first part of it, until Bree started talking about the fight that had caused Diego to get kicked out of the house he was standing in. At that point, he left silently, leaving them to talk alone. He found his way to the kitchen, passing the living room where John was still sitting. Edward tried not to impose, sitting up at the bar and waiting.

The silence was tense as Edward sat with his back to John, and he listened to the man huff for a minute before he turned around to face the man. Despite the large space between them, Edward saw the indignity creeping across John's face worse than he'd ever seen on anyone else's face — even Liam's.

"You really didn't like Diego, did you?" Edward taunted.

John clenched his fists.

"And you really didn't like him being with your daughter," Edward continued.

John huffed and turned his eyes to Edward. "You have no fucking clue what my wife and I have been through," he griped.

Edward leaned his elbows back onto the bar. "No, I wouldn't know anything about that. But I do know how scared Bree was last night. And I know she lost a boy she loved — the first boy she loved in her life. I know she's cried all morning, and I don't give a shit about what you and your wife have been through. You're both adults. You both should've known better. I hope when I have children, I don't piss on them the way you have. Because she's sixteen, and she needs her parents."

Whatever Edward said, something changed in the expression on John's face. After everything Marilyn had said, it was clear this entire family had been through enough in the last several months. Edward thought of everything his father had ever said to him when he'd come home with some girl who was less than desirable. They'd either been too much of this or not enough of that, but it had never once been about race. And based on the look on John's face, he'd never wanted his daughter to be involved in someone who wasn't the same color as her.

"I just didn't want her to get hurt," John insisted. "And I just wanted the best for her. And I didn't think — "

"Diego was good enough for her," Edward finished.

John looked away from Edward.

"Did you ever talk to him?" Edward asked.

"I saw no reason to — "

"Talk to the boy who was doing a school play with your daughter? Ask him if he cared for her and wanted the same things as you. Tell him how you felt about him seeing her and the fact that it would probably hurt her if he left. Did you ever think about _her_ in all this?"

John remained stubborn. "She was irresponsible enough to go off with him and throw her life away. It was her choice."

"Did she have any other choices in front of her?"

Before John could answer, Edward stood up and moved into the living room to sit adjacent to him.

"I was a lot like Bree when I was her age," Edward began, thinking back to when he'd been sixteen. "I was independent and thought I knew everything. And my father kept something from me recently because he believed it was for my own good. But it was something I needed him to tell me. When he didn't trust me to handle it, I wasn't only angry. I was insulted. And I'm still angry at him. We haven't talked about it since. And it wasn't something either of us wanted. Is that what you want ten years down the road? For you and your daughter to never speak because you didn't trust her? Because you're angry for all the wrong reasons. And you're angry at the wrong person. Mr. Tanner, I don't want to tell you how to handle this, and I won't tell you how to raise your daughter. Until this happened, it seems to me that Bree was an intelligent and enlightened girl. She got those things from you. And by doing this, you're telling her you did something wrong raising her. Pardon me for saying this, but I don't think you did anything wrong. You did something right with her. She tried to help Diego. She wanted him to be safe — just like you wanted her to be safe."

The angry expression left his face slowly, and he dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck and then his face. It didn't take long for his shoulders to start shaking, and he pressed his fingers into his eyes. Edward watched as John was overcome with emotion, but it only lasted for half a minute before John looked at Edward.

"And exactly how did you get involved in this?"

"It's probably better that you don't dwell on this," Edward pleaded. "She's home. You don't want her to leave again, do you?"

John hesitated, but then he shook his head.

"Then listen to her. For her safety and yours. Because when you kicked her out, you forced her to believe she didn't have a choice anymore. And the people she got involved with won't let her go so easily. I only want to help you."

It looked like John wanted to continue, but he didn't.

"And I don't mean anything bad happened to her," Edward assured John. "But these people are dangerous. They're relentless, and they're possessive. When I took her from them last night, I knew they would come for her. I want to keep her safe, and to do that, I need to get all of you away from here."

"To go where?"

Edward didn't want to be blunt, but he didn't have a choice. "Anywhere but here."

Noise from the hallway interrupted them, and Edward glanced back to see Bree there with Marilyn.

"Is everything okay?" Marilyn asked, holding Bree closer.

Edward stood up then, looking at John and then Bree. "You all need to pack," he told them. "I need to call someone to pick you up."

"What's happening?" Marilyn asked.

Bree looked at her mother. "It's a long story, Mom. Remember what I said about Diego. It's bad."

Edward pulled out his cell phone. "I'll just be outside."

He left them alone then, stepping outside to the front steps and thinking of the only person with enough power to do what he needed.

"Hello?" Her voice was soft this morning.

"I need your help," he pleaded.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

"Carlisle, my friend, I think you know I don't like admitting how much trouble your boy has gotten himself into," Eleazar said, stepping into the office with Carlisle. "And he is in _a lot_ of trouble."

Carlisle didn't need Eleazar to state the obvious, but he had no witty come back to his friend's statement. He sat down at his desk, watching Eleazar sit in a chair on the other side.

"The Las Vegas police have his blood, his fingerprints, his semen," Eleazar continued. "I thought you had more control over him than this."

To that, Carlisle spoke. "Edward is a grown man. He's responsible for his own actions. And he knows how much trouble he's in right now." Carlisle paused, leaning over his desk. "Surely, you've read his statement he gave to the police here in Chicago. He didn't do this alone, and based on his behavior, I'd even say he was coerced into doing the largest part of it."

Eleazar waved his hand. "It's of no consequence," he insisted. "The police in Nevada are demanding his extradition there, and after everything I've seen of their evidence, I'm more than inclined to let them take him. He's out of control, Carlisle."

The tone in Eleazar's voice set Carlisle's nerves on edge, and he leveled his eyes with Eleazar's. "You're one to talk about having a child out of control. And she has no excuse for her behavior as of late."

"There is no excuse for raping and torturing a young woman," Eleazar spat, his face pinched in disgust. "It doesn't matter if he grew a conscience afterward. And from what Tanya says, Edward was the instigator in their affair."

"Yes, and that's why she has a new man on her arm every few weeks," Carlisle snorted.

"The point," Eleazar persisted, "is Edward isn't going to get out of this one. You won't be able to stop the extradition, and you'll be lucky to get a trial. All the evidence is against him, and he should be in jail now instead of a mansion."

Carlisle sucked in a cleansing breath, seeing the folder on his desk with all the police reports and photos. It was useless to argue with Eleazar when it came to work, and Carlisle knew it was going to be a sore subject after what had happened with Tanya. Carlisle didn't know all the details, but it was obvious no one could be blamed for the situation with their children. The subject of Edward's culpability in the mess in front of him now was an entirely different subject.

"Fine," Carlisle conceded. "If he has to go back to Las Vegas, then so be it. You have a job to do, and I understand that. But he's my son, and I will do everything in my power to make sure _all_ the details of this are brought out. We both know I have ways of preventing him from being denied the ability to defend himself, especially since it's becoming clear to me that whatever happened, he was not a _willing_ participant. He was coerced."

The argumentative tone in Eleazar's voice faded as he responded. "I don't want Edward to be railroaded, Carlisle," he swore. "But a boy is dead, and a young woman has been assaulted. I can't ignore that. And if you're so certain he didn't act alone, why hasn't an accomplice been found?"

"My son hasn't been forthcoming with information that will help him," Carlisle admitted. "He's scared and worried — in a way I've never seen, not even when Elizabeth died. And I told you, Edward is responsible for his own actions. If he'd done this — and didn't feel sorry for it — he never would've come home. And he would not have brought Lucy here."

Eleazar's eyes widened. "She's here?" he gasped.

Carlisle nodded.

"And the police weren't notified?"

"He brought her here to keep her safe," Carlisle proclaimed. "And from what I know of her family situation, she doesn't have any parents."

"That is not the point! She should be in a hospital! We should've already questioned her! How could you be so arrogant to do this?"

Carlisle rose from his chair, staring Eleazar down with a glare in his eyes. "I'm trying to protect my son," he growled. "And Lucy is safer here than she would be anywhere else. I have every right to be arrogant. Just as you have every right to keep Edward from defending his actions. Do not speak to me that way in _my house_!"

The rare burst of emotion from Carlisle startled Eleazar, and he sat back in his chair, stunned. Carlisle didn't sit back down, but he pulled in a ragged breath, attempting to keep calm.

"If Las Vegas wants Edward extradited, then you have no choice. I understand this. But until that time, I'm going to do everything I can to ensure that my son is given every opportunity to explain what happened. He knows what he did. And he knows there will be consequences. While you're sitting in your office signing the papers, you might want to think about calling Charlie and Rene Swan to find out where their daughter is."

"Why?"

"Because Isabella Swan is the one who wrangled Edward into doing this," Carlisle stated. "I'm almost absolutely positive of it."

"Are you accusing her of raping and torturing another young woman?" Eleazar asked incredulously.

"I'm telling you she was with Edward when this all started. And I'm swearing to you Edward didn't do this alone. No matter what he did with Tanya, it shouldn't make a difference in your duties as a prosecutor. You should keep your emotions in check, Eleazar. Or I'll find another prosecutor who isn't so well-versed in my family's history."

It was a light threat, and Carlisle realized that. Extradition to Las Vegas would actually be a good thing for Edward, since no one there would know him or his family. Carlisle hoped it would allow him to postpone any trips to prison for his son — for a little while anyway.

Eleazar scoffed at Carlisle's threat, folding his arms over his chest.

"You're starting to sound desperate."

"I am desperate," Carlisle confessed. "And while you might not like the fact that Lucy is here — while you might not appreciate the position I'm in — I'm begging you to see this from my perspective. Edward is rebellious and disrespectful on a good day. We both know this. But he's terrified of something he won't tell me, and until I know what that is, I can't deny him everything I have to keep him safe."

Carlisle sat down clasping his hands together. "I thought I was being a good father by allowing him to be as free-spirited as I was at his age. I thought I was giving him the opportunity to see that I was only trying to give him the best. But in reality, I was smothering him, and I never wanted that. And I'm afraid I've lost him because of it. If these next few days are all I have left with him, then I plan to have every second available to do everything I can for him. And no one will stop me. Not even you."

"It isn't only me you have to be concerned about," Eleazar reminded him.

It didn't take much control on Carlisle's part to keep certain pieces of information from Eleazar. The police and prosecutors in Las Vegas would learn how much power Carlisle had when they tried to do anything without going through his own attorneys first.

"And you can't keep that young woman here," Eleazar warned. "If she's coherent, then we still have evidence to collect and her statement to record."

Carlisle grinned only marginally. "All in good time, my friend," he cajoled. He rose from his desk again, and Eleazar followed him. "It's early still. Can you stay for breakfast?"

"I don't know if that would be appropriate at this point," Eleazar chuckled, leaving the office with Carlisle and then falling in step with him through the front parlor.

Before they were even halfway across the room, Carlisle heard his son's voice drifting down the stairs.

"There's steps here," Edward said quietly. "You're doing good."

Carlisle entered the foyer first, seeing Edward at the top of the main staircase with Lucy beside him. She was grasping onto his arm, and he was leading her down the steps slowly.

"_Ay dios mio,"_ Eleazar whispered behind Carlisle.

Edward stopped at the middle of the staircase, now looking at them with Lucy still beside him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice as quiet as Edward's.

Carlisle looked at Eleazar, watching confusion cross his face in an instant.

After half a minute, Edward continued down the stairs until he and Lucy were standing next to the banister. Carlisle moved forward, arriving at his son's side with Eleazar on his heels. It took another minute to make Edward let go of Lucy, and Carlisle took her hands in his.

"How are you this morning, my dear?" he asked gently.

Her stomach growled in response, causing her to blush, and Carlisle chuckled.

"Well, we'll take care of that in just a moment," he promised.

Carlisle turned his eyes to Edward. "Your mother is probably overseeing breakfast. You should take Lucy to the dining room."

Edward glanced at Eleazar, frozen to the floor. For a minute, no one moved. Then Eleazar moved to Carlisle's side to be in front of Edward.

"You look different from the last time I saw you," he commented. "Older, somehow."

No words left Edward's mouth.

Eleazar stepped closer to Edward and Lucy. "Would you mind if I spoke to your — her?"

He reached for Lucy, and his hand almost touched her before Edward stopped him.

"Please don't touch her," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. "You'll scare her."

Eleazar scoffed. "I'll scare her? After what you've done."

Edward brought his eyes to meet Eleazar's. "You have no idea what you're talking about. And the only time you'll know what really happened is after all this is over. You're not talking to her, and that's final."

Edward took Lucy's hand in his, pulling her with him away from Eleazar and Carlisle toward the dining room.

Eleazar watched Edward leave and moved closer to Carlisle. "He's different," Eleazar repeated.

"He is," Carlisle agreed. "And when this is all over, I hope the difference will be for the better."

Eleazar looked at Carlisle. "You truly believe he's innocent, don't you? Even after everything you've seen and heard. After he's brought that woman here as damaged as she is."

Carlisle didn't hesitate. "Yes. And I know that even though he's been misguided, he wants to face this. I told you, Edward didn't do this on his own. Find Isabella Swan. She has to be somewhere. When you find her, you'll know I'm telling you the truth."

"Or that she had nothing to do with any of this," Eleazar retorted, "and your son is attempting to keep all the blame from his shoulders."

"Believe what you want," Carlisle shrugged. "But I want you to understand. You have your priorities. I have mine. And for right now, we should just accept that we're not going to see eye to eye on this."

Eleazar sighed heavily. "So that's it then?"

A sad smile crossed Carlisle's face. "I'm afraid so, old friend." He reached out to shake Eleazar's hand, and they stepped toward the door.

"I'll be in touch," Eleazar promised.

Carlisle opened the door then, and Eleazar left without another word.

"Carlisle," Esme called, coming from the dining room. "Is everything all right?"

He thought on her question the whole time he walked her into the dining room where Edward and Lucy were sitting with Jasper and Rosalie. By the time he reached his chair, he still didn't have an answer for her.

* * *

><p><strong>And here we are again. I know I've said this before, but I promise the next chapter will be out much sooner than this one.<strong>

**And I also know Bree's parents weren't exactly named, so until official names are given, I'll claim mine for now.**

**Anyone know what's going to happen next? Well, leave a review and get a preview.**

**Until next time!  
><strong>


	7. Allies & Enemies

**Look at this! Me, posting after less than a week! A few new things happening in this chapter, and there are a few revelations.**

**More at the bottom.**

**Thanks for reading!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Allies &amp; Enemies<strong>

**Back then.**

"You know it's bad enough your father still calls me," Siobhan teased Edward, and he huffed sitting on the front steps of Bree's house. "There is such a thing as a clean break."

"I know. But this is serious. And it's partially my fault. Try not to think of it as a favor to me. You're saving the life of a sixteen-year-old girl, and you're protecting her family from a man more deranged than Liam. Please."

She laughed despite sounding sincere. "I already said I would do it. When you say it like that, of course. Who is this girl, Edward? You're behaving like her big brother."

The front door opened, and Edward looked behind him to see Bree there alone. "Well, for now, that's what you can call me," he informed Siobhan.

She paused nearly a minute, and in that time, Bree sat next to Edward and wrapped her hands around his arm.

"Give me a few hours," Siobhan requested. "I have to be careful not to alert my husband. The last thing we need is any blood spilled."

"I agree. Thank you."

She hung up before he did, and Edward shut off his phone, covering his face with his hands.

"Who was that?" Bree asked.

For several seconds, Edward said nothing.

Who was Siobhan? There was so much history between her family and his. And it extended farther back than just Liam and this feud he'd always had with Edward's father. The McManus family was one of the most powerful in Ireland, and Liam had only married into the family as an alliance with his father and Siobhan's. Liam liked to walk around like a hard, cruel mobster, but the truth was, he had less than half the power Siobhan exercised. She was seductive and manipulative when she wanted to be, and people usually laid down to do whatever she asked. At least, of course, until she met Carlisle Cullen.

"She's a friend of my father's," Edward explained. "Her name is Siobhan."

"And she's going to help us?"

Edward nodded.

"How do you know her?" Bree grasped onto his arm gently.

Again, Edward hesitated. Bella didn't even know this much. "It's complicated," he insisted.

He turned his eyes from hers, hoping it would be enough, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't be based on how Bree was holding him.

"Edward," she began, and he looked at her, "I told you about Diego. And I just told my mother about everything that happened while I was out there. I think you can tell me just this one thing. Is she a _good_ friend of your father's?"

Edward laughed softly. "She wouldn't like anyone saying she was good. But on occasion, she does good things. As long as there's something in it for her. And sometimes, simply antagonizing her husband is enough."

"Is this going to do that?"

He nodded. "Especially since she's doing it for me." Edward swallowed hard and clasped his hands together. "He _hates_ me. And my father."

"Why?"

It was a logical question to anyone who didn't know the whole story. Edward had only ever told it once in its entirety, and he hadn't told any of it to Bella.

"It happened before I was born," he explained. "Her father is from Ireland and he was looking for partners in the States. My grandfather was the wealthiest businessman north of the Mason-Dixon Line. We all still like to believe that Grandfather ran a legitimate business and would've never dealt with criminals or mobsters. But Siobhan's father Murphy offered him a lot of money. She and my father dated for a while. Based on what I've heard and what I know, they cared a great deal for each other. It seemed like an alliance was in the works. Until my father was gunned down in New York probably a couple of weeks before the deal was finalized.

"It was the first time my grandfather saw what Murphy really was. And he backed out of the deal — even after Murphy offered him more money. Siobhan wanted to stay with my father, but Murphy wouldn't have it. He ordered her back to Ireland before she could explain to my father what had happened. Probably a year after that, Murphy met Liam's father Connor, and that was the end of my father and Siobhan's affair. But she never stopped loving my father. I see it in her eyes every time she looks at me — every time she thinks her life could've been different."

"And that's why she helps you?" Bree's hands grasped Edward's arm gently.

"Sometimes," he shrugged. "Other times, I think she does it to still feel in control of her life. She's rebellious like I am, I suppose. We both have fathers forcing us to do things we don't want to do. And trust me when I say her father is a very forceful man. I pretend he doesn't scare me, but if I got caught in a dark alley with him, I'd probably ended up kissing a bullet."

"Is that what your father kept from you when you were younger?" she grimaced.

The image of a woman with green-gold eyes and auburn hair flashed through Edward's mind, and he spoke without wanting to. "No."

"How long is this going to take?" Bree asked after a long moment.

Edward glanced around, surveying the area and then looking at the sky. "Probably the rest of the day," he surmised. "She has to keep her husband from finding out she's helping me, and she agrees it's better to keep you and your family safe as opposed to remaining silent."

"Are you sure you can trust her?"

Silence followed, and Edward dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "She owes me," he confided. "And she hates her husband as much as he hates me. Plus she wouldn't put innocent people at risk."

"That's not really an answer," Bree argued.

"I trust her," Edward stated plainly. "She wouldn't do something to put you at risk just to spite me. She'll help."

Again, it was silent, and Edward felt more memories from when he'd been a teenager simmer to the surface of his mind. He didn't want to think of what his father had done at a time like this, and it wasn't difficult to remember why they'd started fighting in the first place. But some things were unforgivable, and the heart beating in his chest now was a constant reminder of what he'd been robbed of as a child. It was a memory he would always want to keep close, and he didn't foresee having the need to tell anyone else in the near future.

A black Cadillac town car pulled up to the curb down the street from Bree's house as he sat there with her. Even after speaking to Siobhan, Edward knew this wasn't anyone sent by her, and he took Bree's hand in his to rise from the front steps.

"We should go inside," he said, pulling her to her feet and glancing over his shoulder at the car. He didn't say anything else to her, nudging her inside and then following her to shut the front door.

"What are we going to do until she sends someone for us?" Bree asked Edward.

He looked around the living room and the attached kitchen. Marilyn and John were nowhere to be found, and the house was currently quiet. "You should all pack," he suggested. "For a few weeks. There's no telling when all this will be sorted out, and the longer you're away, the better."

"Well, what are you going to do while we pack?" She turned to face him and then stepped forward to put her arms around him.

"I'll stay here with you for as long as I can," Edward promised holding her against him differently from the way he had that morning. "Everything's going to be okay. I swear. Just go pack."

She stepped away from him with a smile on her face, and he watched her walk to the back of the house to her room before he moved to another part of the house.

The only evidence anyone actually lived in Bree's house was the pictures on the walls. Edward noticed how each one showed her at a different stage of her life. One picture even showed her on a stage dressed up at Dorothy from Wizard of Oz. It looked like she'd been in Theater classes since she was a little girl. That should've caused him to question everything she said to him, but Edward trusted her. The reactions of her parents were too real for any of her story to be untrue.

The plush cream-colored carpet led him to a bright room, and when he stepped inside, Edward discovered a grand piano sitting inside a large sun room. The wood floor stretched from one edge of the room to the other, and wood panels were dispersed evenly around the room.

Edward looked around but saw no one, stepping into the room slowly and moving to sit on the bench. He hadn't played in months, but the last couple of days had got him thinking of when he'd really wanted to run away and disappear to destinations unknown. No matter what his father had wanted, Edward had always wanted to go to music school. But it had never been a part of the plan laid out for him.

Sitting at the piano in Bree's house made Edward feel like everything was going to be okay even if he knew nothing would ever be okay again. For right now, he wanted to pretend, uncovering the ivory keys and laying his fingers over them gently.

The first note that played reminded him of the woman who had taught him to play, and as he sat there, the sounds of Clair de Lune filled the sun room. The first time he'd played when he was eight hadn't gone as smoothly, but he'd gotten better. His teacher had made sure he got plenty of practice despite his father's reservations. She'd had an amazing amount of command over Edward's father, one of the few women to do it. Thinking about her now, Edward wondered if his life would've been different if she was still alive.

He felt someone enter the room as he sat there, but he didn't stop. Marilyn sat on the bench next to him, a little smile across her face. In the few minutes it took him to finish, he glanced at her. She didn't speak until he played the last key.

She chuckled. "You play beautifully. Who taught you?"

Edward felt the words get stuck in his throat. "My mother's sister," he said instead of the truth.

"Does she still play?"

He didn't look at her, lifting his hands to the top of the piano. "No. She died a long time ago."

The smile on Marilyn's face fell. "Oh. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

Edward shut his eyes and turned his face away, fighting the memory as it boiled under the surface of his mind. The last time he'd seen her lying sick in a hospital bed would always be the way he remembered her. Of course, he'd been sick himself lying next to her. The next day she was gone, and her heart was keeping him alive — literally.

"I'm sorry. It's not my business," Marilyn insisted.

She started to get up, but he spoke again before she could. "She had a tumor in her brain," he remembered, feeling angry and stupid for never telling anyone. "It was inoperable, but the doctors were supposed to be the best. They were going to operate. She went blind in the last few months, but we still played."

He swallowed the guilt threatening to tear its way up his chest. Marilyn touched his face, and he looked at her feeling tears he hadn't cried in eight years fall from his eyes.

"About a week before she went to the hospital, I got pneumonia. Another one of those doctors who was supposed to save her told my father the fluid in my lungs was causing an infection to spread. It damaged my heart, and they said I wouldn't live if I didn't — My heart couldn't take it anymore. They never asked me. And I didn't find out until the next day."

Without him saying anymore, Marilyn pulled him into her arms, holding him as he sobbed harder than he had in eight years. He didn't know why he was telling her any of this. He'd never wanted anyone to know. But he couldn't stop now that he'd started. After everything that had happened with Bella, Edward realized he had to fix what he'd done wrong. If he could have someone know what was going on in his head and why he really did all this, maybe it wouldn't seem so bad.

"Three months ago, I found out something my father kept from me my whole life," he said.

She held him tighter, reminding him of the woman whose heart was inside his chest. "It's okay," she whispered. "You can tell me."

He leaned back and looked at her. "She was my — "

His cell phone rang from his pocket, interrupting him more rudely than any person possibly could and breaking the spell the music seemed to have put on him. He scooted away from Marilyn and answered his phone without looking at the number after it rang a second time.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Cullen, this is the concierge at the Bellagio," a man announced with a slight, unrecognizable accent. "I'm calling to confirm your check-out today. We have your reservation coming up at five o'clock."

Edward huffed, rubbing his eyes and rising from the bench. "Yes, I'll be checking out today. Thank you."

He didn't indicate anything else, shutting his phone and looking at Marilyn. She didn't say anything as she rose to face him. She touched his face hesitantly, wiping his eyes and laying her palm over his chest.

"She's not gone," she assured him.

Edward nodded. "I know."

Neither of them spoke, leaving the sun room after having a somewhat cathartic talk even though Edward hadn't really said what he needed to.

Bree was sitting at the bar with her father when Edward entered the room with Marilyn. He was surprised they weren't fighting or arguing, but they weren't talking. He wanted to stay until Siobhan could send someone to their house, but he was running out of time to find Bella and take her back to her father. He had no idea if it would stop her tirade, but Edward knew he was finished with his.

"I want to stay until I know everything's safe," he told them. "But I have to go. Someone will be here for you in a few hours. Don't answer the door unless they say Siobhan sent them, and call me when they get here."

Bree stood up to face him. "Are you sure that's going to be okay?"

He touched her face gently, looking at her mother and father. "I hope it will be. If James doesn't know where you live, then he shouldn't find you here. And I'll be in the city for at least another day. Call me," he pleaded.

She glanced at her parents, ducking her head and lifting her hands to his shirt. "Won't they know where you are?"

He took her hands in his, and she looked at him. "I can take care of myself," he assured her. "Just be careful, and everything will be okay."

There was no hesitation on her part as she stepped up onto her toes and kissed him despite her parents watching. "Thank you," she whispered.

Edward laid his forehead over hers. "You're welcome."

He didn't say anything else, holding her hands tighter and then stepping away from her. He nodded to her parents and left through the front door.

Edward saw the same black car across the street, and he stood on the front steps for nearly a minute before he moved down the driveway to where the car was still parked.

"How long has that car been here?" he asked Charles.

The older man looked at the car. "It's been there the whole time you were inside, sir. A young gentleman got out just after you went inside, but he hasn't come back out."

"Where did he go?"

Charles pointed to a house in front of the car. "That two-story house down there."

A gnawing feeling in Edward's gut told him it was wrong for that car to be here, but he didn't know why. He thought about his grandfather and the way it would've been normal for him if his father hadn't studied law and become one of the most-highly paid criminal attorneys in Chicago — at least publicly. His grandfather would've sent someone to watch an employee who left his business even if they'd never really done anything to contribute. Any other organized crime boss would do the same thing.

"He hasn't come back?" Edward repeated.

Charles shook his head. "No, sir."

Edward suppressed the feeling he had telling him to stay put. Bree would call him if anything went wrong, and Edward planned to call Siobhan when he got to the hotel to make sure everything was ready. He had to trust that nothing bad would happen.

"We're going back to the hotel," Edward told Charles. "And then you can go back to Los Angeles. I'll get a cab to the airport."

Charles moved around to the left passenger door, opening it. "Going home, sir?"

"Yes."

Charles didn't reply, allowing Edward to get in before he closed the door.

The drive back into the metropolitan area of Las Vegas was quiet, and Edward looked through his phone the whole way, finding his father's number and then Esme's. He thought about calling them and telling them what he'd done. Would they understand? They'd both lied to him about something they knew was important to him, and they were the ones chastising him for acting like a child. As far as Edward was concerned, he had a right to know what they'd kept from him. He wanted them to know that.

It was after twelve when Charles pulled up to the main entrance of the Bellagio and stepped back to open Edward's door.

"I can stay, sir," he offered.

Edward stood still for a minute, feeling the warm breeze and gazing around at the other people entering the hotel. So much had happened in just a day. Only a small part of it had actually been planned. Edward decided it was time for it to be finished.

"That's okay, Charles. I'll be all right. Thank you."

Charles nodded. "Sir."

As soon as the car was gone, Edward made his way inside with every intention of going to his room and packing up everything he'd bought to return it to the store.

"Hey, I know you," a frantic deep voice called from behind him.

Edward turned around, facing a familiar blond-haired, blue-eyed man in an untucked button down shirt and wrinkled dress pants.

"It's Mike," the man reminded him, extending his hand.

An image of Lucy flashed through Edward's mind, and he absently thought of the conversation he'd had with her. "Of course. Good to see you again."

Mike huffed. "Yeah, well, I can't say the same right now."

Edward noted the edge in Mike's voice. "Is something wrong?"

"I can't find my sister," Mike exclaimed.

With a glance around the lobby, Edward stepped closer lowering his voice. "What do you mean, you can't find her?"

Mike threw his hands out, exasperated. "Just that. I can't find her. I haven't seen her all day. She wasn't in her bed this morning, and I've asked everyone I can think of. And I'm guessing based on your questions that you haven't seen her either."

Edward's face flushed with blood, and he looked around again. "No, I had to leave the hotel for a little while. I haven't seen her since she left the hotel bar with you."

"I've been going out of my mind," Mike cried. "She's never disappeared like this. I mean, of course, she can't now. But even before her accident, she would never go off without telling anyone where to find her."

A few people noticed them standing there, and Edward nudged Mike from the middle of the lobby. "Let's go somewhere more private," he suggested. "We'll find her. I promise."

Mike didn't argue, following Edward to the elevator, and they stepped on together before Edward spoke again.

"How long have you been in Las Vegas?"

"Three days," Mike answered, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Lucy said you were on an overdue vacation. Why overdue?"

Mike was silent a couple of minutes, and he spoke as the elevator doors opened to Edward's room. "Our parents were killed in a car accident a few years ago. Well, her father and my mother."

Edward led Mike to the bar, setting out two glasses and pouring a fair amount of scotch before he sat down. "What happened to Lucy?" Mike looked up from his glass. "I mean, her blindness. How did that happen?"

Mike took a long swig of his drink, leaving only a little and then speaking. "She was in a car accident with her mother. She was twelve, and the impact killed her mother instantly. Lucy suffered a severe head injury that caused damage to the nerve endings connected to her eyes. They talked about correcting it with surgery, but Dad didn't want to put her through anymore. The doctor said she could do it any time she wanted, but Lucy adjusted."

"How did her father meet your mother?"

The last of the scotch disappeared, and Mike grimaced as it went down. "My mother was a nurse at the hospital Lucy stayed in until she could go home. I was only fifteen. My father died of a heart attack when I was ten, so it was just me and my mom for a while until she met Lucy's father. She got attached to Lucy a lot faster than her other patients, and about nine months after the accident, she and Lucy's dad started dating."

Edward listened with a small amount of jealousy swelling in his chest. It sounded like Lucy and Mike had been given a normal childhood despite all the death and sadness. Edward wished he'd had that kind of normalcy in his life. "It must have been difficult to see your mother with another man after your father passed away," Edward guessed.

Mike shrugged. "My mom was alone for five years. We'd grieved together, and we were there for each other. I was only ten when it happened, but I saw how lonely she was without someone else in her life. Lucy's dad was actually kind of cool even if he was a little high strung. What else can you expect from a man who just lost his wife? And he had all these lawyers and financial advisors coming by the hospital. He was handling his own father's company at the time, and it was a lot of responsibility. My mom said he was a businessman of some kind when I was fifteen, but he took over his dad's company a couple of years after they got married."

"Lucy seems to have adjusted to her condition quite well," Edward commented, attempting to change the subject.

A little smile crossed Mike's face. "She was more resilient than anyone expected her to be," he chuckled. "She never let it slow her down, you know?"

Edward nodded, thinking of when he'd been sixteen. "Yes, actually, I do know."

The smile on Mike's face faded completely. He rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "That's why I'm so worried. This is the first time she's ever just disappeared like this, and it scares me. Not just because of her being blind. But I can't stop thinking something has happened to her. And I don't know what I'd do if I lost her. She's all I have left."

"And you last saw her this morning?"

Mike shook his head again. "No, it was last night. I got her up to our room, and she went right to bed. I was up for a little while, but when I went to sleep, she was in her bed. I'm almost absolutely positive of it. And I've asked around the hotel. No one saw her leave. She didn't call down at all during the night, and no one's seen her this morning."

Edward leaned closer. "We'll find her. If no one saw her leave last night or this morning, then she must still be in the hotel. There's security and video footage. I know the owner of the hotel. I can help you find her."

With a nudge of his glass toward the scotch flask, Mike nodded for more. Edward obliged him easily, still on his first glass.

"Why do you care if I find her?" Mike asked suddenly.

It was a strange question, and for Edward, it was difficult to answer. He didn't really know Lucy, and it wasn't supposed to be important for him to want her to be safe. Edward couldn't explain why he wanted to find her, but he did. For even the smallest amount of time, she'd made him feel normal, like he could've done anything other than come here to do this. But if he hadn't come here, he wouldn't have met her. He wouldn't feel like he could face his father and tell him everything that was going wrong in his life. Therefore he couldn't regret meeting her, no matter what it caused Bella to do to him.

"It doesn't matter why," Edward assured him. "What matters is I'm going to help you."

Edward's phone rang before Mike could respond, and when Edward saw Bella's name flash across the screen, he stood up from the bar moving to the window. "Where are you?"

She chortled. "I'll tell you in a minute. But first, I need you to know something."

Edward glanced at Mike. "Know what?"

For about ten seconds, there was nothing, and then a soft sob echoed over the phone. "Please help me."

Edward recognized Lucy's voice immediately, his pulse increasing as his whole body tensed. "Lucy."

She sobbed again, and Edward turned to face Mike as he stood up from the bar.

"Now I know what you're thinking," Bella said. "Why is she with me? When did I take her? Those are very good questions, and I think you know the answers, Edward."

"What's going on?" Mike asked.

Edward waved him off, turning back to the window. "This is between you and me. Don't involve her."

"I didn't," Bella reminded him. "You did, and you know it. And there's only one thing you can do to change it."

The plastic of the phone cracked under Edward's clenched fist. "Where are you?"

"Room 304."

"You're still in the hotel?"

She laughed again. "Of course I am. You're not the only friend I have in town. And he's much more willing to help me when I need him than you are." She paused, and Lucy sobbed again in the background. "Before you come here though, I need you to do something for me."

Edward scoffed indignantly at the thought of doing anything Bella asked him after learning this.

"If you want your pretty little blind sweetheart to be alive with all her fingers and toes when you get here, you won't call the police. You won't call Daddy, and you won't let anyone know what you're doing or where you're going. And if I find out that you didn't listen to me, what I do to her will be a hundred times worse than I what did to you. Do you understand, Edward?"

If he let her get away with this, Edward was sure Bella would do something worse than kill Lucy. The moment that thought crossed his mind, Edward knew he couldn't refuse to do what she asked. He couldn't let her hurt anyone because of something he'd done, and he looked at Mike as the frantic young man paced. "All right. I'll be there."

She cackled and the line went dead.

"What's happening?" Mike demanded.

Edward turned off his phone, trying to find words but unable to without knowing he'd caused Lucy to be taken because he'd left Bella on the street the night before.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

Breakfast was much quieter than usual with Lucy at the table, and though Carlisle tried to bring up anything he could to keep the obvious tension low, it was difficult. His meeting with Eleazar weighed heavily on his mind as he watched Edward and Lucy.

Was it really a good idea for her to be here? He realized Edward believed she was safe here, but there were numerous implications of her presence in his life now. Carlisle had no idea how to proceed — especially now that Eleazar knew she was here and that Edward didn't plan on letting her talk to the police. It was strange.

"Lucy," Esme said from Carlisle's side, "won't you tell us a little about yourself? Where are you from?"

"Amarillo, originally. But we moved to Galveston when my dad remarried. I was twelve."

"Did you go to school?"

Lucy smiled slightly. Carlisle could see she was amused by Esme's questions based on the blush in her cheeks. "Texas A&M University. It was my mother's alma mater. My real mom."

"And what did you study?"

"Everything," Lucy shrugged. "And I loved it."

Esme smiled and looked at Carlisle. "Doesn't she remind you of Elizabeth?"

He smiled in agreement. "She certainly does."

"Who's Elizabeth?" Lucy asked, turning her head in Edward's direction.

He looked at Carlisle, and the room became quiet again as another set of servants filed into the room with various items in their hands.

No one answered Lucy.

The doorbell rang just as they were finishing with breakfast, and Riley let Emmett into the foyer as Rosalie left the table to meet him. Carlisle chose that moment to stand up from his chair and move to Edward's side.

"We have several things to talk about," he said softly, looking at Lucy as she sat beside Edward quietly. "And we need to talk about it now — before Eleazar signs your extradition papers. I need to know everything that happened if you want me to help you. Please, Edward."

Edward didn't move for a minute, and Carlisle waited for him to make up his mind. He wanted Edward to know that whatever had happened didn't matter anymore. Carlisle wanted to understand how all this had happened, and for that to be possible, he needed answers.

After a glance in Lucy's direction, Edward stood up from the table and helped her to her feet. The resolution in Edward's eyes was enough for Carlisle to know he was right about his suspicions. Edward hadn't wanted to do any of the things he'd been accused of. It was all Carlisle needed to see for him to make up his mind about getting to the bottom of this.

They all moved from the table to leave the dining room, but Esme stopped them.

"Lucy needs her rest," she insisted. "I'll take her upstairs."

She left no room for discussion, removing Lucy from Edward's hands and leaving the room. Jasper stood from his chair and moved around the table to his father and brother.

"Peter should be here soon," he informed.

Carlisle looked at Edward. "Are you ready?"

"No," Edward replied stubbornly. "But seeing as you're so determined, I suppose I don't have a choice. And now that Eleazar knows Lucy is here, he'll likely call Sam and have some detective come here for her."

"We'll deal with that when it happens. It's time for you to come clean with this, son. Whatever happened, I won't judge you. I can see in your eyes that while you might despise me, you would never harm someone so helpless."

"You don't know anything about me," Edward spat. "You never did, and you never will. And that's your own fucking fault! You had no right to do this to me — to keep her from me. If I go to prison, I want that to eat at you until it kills you. Like it almost killed me!"

Carlisle couldn't stop himself from taking several steps back from his son, the pain in his chest sharper than he'd ever felt since he and Edward had begun fighting. Jasper stepped in holding Edward back.

"I never wanted to keep anything from you," Carlisle swore. "But I was trying to do what was best for you. And Elizabeth wouldn't have wanted you to think the worst of her. I loved her too. I wanted to protect you both, but you're my son. You'll always be my son."

"You lied to her! And you lied to me. You deserve every ounce of pain this is causing you."

Jasper held onto Edward tighter. "You need to stay calm, Edward. It doesn't have to be this way."

Edward pulled his arms from Jasper's hands and faced Carlisle defiantly. "It already _is_ this way. You want the truth? After I found out, all I could _think_ about was ruining everything you wanted for me. All I _cared_ about was causing as much damage as I possibly could. And it's because of you that I hurt people. It's your fault I got sucked into it. And if you had just told me about her, none of this would've happened. No one would've died."

Carlisle took a hesitant step toward Edward. "I know," he conceded. "And I can't begin to understand what I've done to you. I can't apologize enough."

Edward shook his head. "No. You can't. You should just stop trying."

"I won't," Carlisle promised taking Edward's face in his hands. "No matter how much distance there is between us. I swear I never wanted to hurt either of you. You're not the only one who was wounded by her death."

Tears filled Edward's eyes as he grabbed Carlisle's arms to push him away. But Carlisle wasn't moving.

"Please," Carlisle whispered. "No matter how angry you are at me, you wouldn't do something like this alone. I _know_ you didn't do this alone. All you have to do is tell me where Isabella Swan is."

A sob escaped Edward's lips, and Carlisle pulled him as close as he would allow, laying his forehead against his son's.

"Edward, please."

"I told you I don't know where she is," Edward cried.

"Tell me you didn't do any of this on your own."

Edward's tears subsided a little with each breath he took, and he nudged Carlisle away to stand up straight. "I stole a car. That woman from Las Vegas. I pushed all of Liam's buttons. And Siobhan — I've caused so much trouble. How are you going to fix this?"

"I don't know," Carlisle admitted, confused about hearing Siobhan's name. "But I swear to you I will. I'll do everything I possibly can. It doesn't matter what Eleazar does with the extradition papers. We'll go to Las Vegas. We'll find Isabella. And I'll make sure her part in all of this is discovered. You have my word, even if it might not mean much to you now."

Edward didn't do or say anything as Carlisle stepped close again and put his arms around him the way he had earlier.

"And I'm sorry about keeping things about Elizabeth from you. I know you loved her, and I know losing her hurt more than I can possibly imagine. I'll tell you anything else you wish to know. But first I need to know everything that happened in Las Vegas."

The doorbell rang before Edward could say anything, and Jasper answered the door, allowing Peter into the foyer as he carried an old leather briefcase.

"I got here as soon as I heard," Peter said following Jasper into the dining room, his intense green eyes trained on Edward as he dragged a hand through his cropped pale blond hair. "The Police Commissioner is on his way now. I guess whatever the DA heard when he was here was enough to make him expedite the paperwork."

Peter Jackson looked almost exactly the way Carlisle remembered, even the disarray of his black Armani suit and the loose tie around his neck. He had a couple days worth of stubble, and it looked like he'd been awake all night. But with the work he did, Carlisle knew Peter was a more than capable criminal attorney. The suit had been a gift when Peter had passed his bar exams, and it was the only Armani suit he owned. He always wore it when he was working a big case.

"We need to get Edward ready for this," Peter insisted, his Louisiana accent even more obvious despite living in Chicago the last several years. "He won't be in the general population for now, since they're flying him out, but an arraignment in Las Vegas won't be until the day after tomorrow at the earliest. He'll have to spend at least a day in their high security holding. I'm filing a motion to keep him in isolation. He'll be safer that way."

Carlisle moved forward shaking Peter's hand and glancing at Edward. "I know you're doing your best. Thank you, Peter."

"It's the least I can do, Carlisle. After Jasper told me about this situation, it sounded to me like the police weren't doing their jobs where finding this accomplice is concerned. I've got a few contacts in Las Vegas and in LA. I'll find her."

A little smile formed across Carlisle's face, and he reached back for Edward to pull him into their makeshift circle. "You remember my son Edward?"

Peter reached for Edward's hand and after a few seconds, Edward reciprocated. "I do," Peter nodded. "It's good to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances." He looked at Carlisle. "Can I talk to him in your office?"

Carlisle lifted his hand to Edward's shoulder, guiding him out of the room. "Of course."

Peter stopped them before they reached the foyer. "I need to talk to him alone," he told Carlisle.

"Absolutely not," Carlisle argued rather loudly.

"Father, he needs to know what happened more than we do," Jasper interjected. "Edward will tell us when he's ready."

Carlisle had never felt more torn than he did right then. He wanted to be with Edward through all of this, but he couldn't keep suffocating his son. He had to trust Peter, or all of this would be for nothing.

Slowly, Carlisle released Edward, and Peter moved forward. "Everything's going to be okay," he assured Carlisle. "I'm usually real good at getting what I want. I won't let anything happen to him."

Carlisle nodded silently and watched Peter guide Edward away from the foyer to his office across the house. Helplessness settled into his shoulders and then his gut. He knew this was only the beginning.

The inside of his father's office looked exactly the way Edward remembered as he stepped inside with Peter behind him. The last time he'd been in this room, his father had been laying down a plan nearly five years earlier. His father had everything mapped out, including what Edward was going to be doing when he graduated. Edward hadn't been interested in anything his father had to say then, and he was just as unenthusiastic about what Peter was there to do.

"So things have been kind of crazy," Peter began, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of Carlisle's desk and then sitting down himself.

Edward scoffed but didn't speak.

"The police have a lot of evidence. Blood, fingerprints, DNA. They're pretty determined to pin all of it on you. Your father is pretty sure somebody helped you, or coerced you — I think those were his words."

"If that's what he believes," Edward huffed.

Peter leaned in closer. "Are you saying you were or you weren't? Because when a man brings home the women he allegedly assaulted, it says to me there's more going on inside him than he's lettin' anyone see. And I remember the last time I saw you. It was just four months ago, but you look different."

Edward rolled his eyes folding his arms over his chest. "So Eleazar said."

"Then it should be obvious something you weren't planning happened. If you want this to turn out for the better, I need to know everything that happened. And I can't tell anyone else. It'll be just between you and me. Edward, did you plan to go to Las Vegas?"

No one had asked him so directly. Everyone, including Edward's father, had assumed he'd gone just to be rebellious. And Edward realized something as he sat there with Peter.

"Not to do what happened."

"Then what did you go there to do?"

Edward remembered the first talk he'd had with Bella about going to Las Vegas — about hitting a few casinos and making a mark on the city.

"I knew Liam was in town before I arrived. And when I found out what my father had done, I couldn't think of anyone else I wanted to antagonize more. I knew I could get under his skin just by being there, and I guess I wanted to show him how much of a mess he'd made of so many people's lives. But I never thought he would . . ." Edward stopped before he could say more. It was too horrible to even think about anymore. And he couldn't let anyone know the truth.

"So it wasn't your idea to kidnap Lucy Wilson or assault her?"

Edward shook his head. "No."

"But you're not going to tell anyone whose idea it was? I mean, it's pretty obvious that if it wasn't your idea, it was Isabella Swan's. I just need to know why she did it. I've done a little digging on her and her parents. I have to admit, you know how to pick 'em."

An uneasy grin crossed Edward's face. "I guess I do. But the truth is, she's the one who picked me."

"Picked you for what?"

"Her father hates me. She didn't admit it until later, but he wanted her to be nicer and not so much of a bitch after he started making his money. And he definitely didn't want her with me. I didn't care about changing her or having her behave — at least not until she agreed to doing something like this. And I needed her to blend in. I should've known it was impossible. The first time she resisted, it should've occurred to me how stupid of an idea it was to do what she wanted. She was just doing it to piss off her father."

"And you didn't want to piss your father off?"

"I wanted to show him he couldn't control me. I never wanted anyone to die," Edward swore. "I never thought Bella would — Just to get back at me for — "

Peter held up his hand stopping Edward abruptly. "I need you to start at the beginning. When you did meet her?"

"After New Year's. I was in LA with my father, and she was at a party his office there was having. She was with a man twice her age, but when she saw me, she dumped him. I was flattered, I guess. Like I said, her father hates me. Apparently, I wasn't good enough for her," Edward snorted.

"She sought you out," Peter deduced.

Edward nodded.

"And going to Las Vegas was initially her idea or yours?"

"I think I suggested it," Edward admitted. "But she latched on to it almost the moment I did. And the state of mind I was in, I went along with everything. I never thought it would lead to this."

"Your father and Jasper both say you don't know where she is."

Edward shook his head. "I don't."

"And you're not lying about not knowing where she is?"

Edward thought for only a second on whether or not he could trust Peter. They'd known each other since he and Jasper had been in college together. But what it really came down to was the fact that if Edward told anyone everything that had happened, they would have to let other people know. Edward wasn't only trying to protect Lucy or even himself. Only one other person really knew everything that had happened, and even if he knew she could take care of herself, Edward still felt responsible for involving her.

So he looked Peter square in the eyes and told as much of the truth as he possibly could. "I'm not lying. I don't know where she is. The last time I saw her, she was in a hotel room at the Bellagio. I left with Lucy, and wherever Bella went, I have no idea. And I don't care."

A small smile appeared over Peter's face. Whether he believed Edward or not, it didn't show one way or another. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick manila folder.

"I can do three things at this very moment," Peter began, opening the folder without showing its contents to Edward. "I've got a motion with a judge here and in Las Vegas to keep you out of the general population at Clark County Detention Center. I know a few of the correction officers in Clark County, and I can ensure they'll be there to process you while you're there. And after you're arraigned, at which point you'll either be given an impossibly high bail amount or you'll be held, I've arranged for a bail bondsman to put you under house arrest until the trial. Try not to let that worry you. It's for your own safety, because believe me, you _don't_ want to spend the duration of a trial in prison. Guys in there would eat you for breakfast."

"You know this from experience, I take it."

Peter chuckled, still flipping through the folder. He didn't answer Edward, and when he did speak, he changed the subject.

"I need you to start at the beginning," he said again. "From the moment you stole the car until you showed up here three days ago."

Edward shut his eyes, going over everything in his head and getting to the point where everything had begun to go wrong.

How had he not seen it?

Why hadn't he stopped her sooner?

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><p><strong>I contemplated doing the whole talking thing, you know, where Edward tells Peter what happened, and then I thought, why? It's so much better when you get to see it happen. <strong>

**So I hope you're all ready.**

**It's a doozie. **

**Thanks for the alerts and favorites. I love that you're wanting to know what's gonna happen next and that you like my story. I couldn't ask for more. What I really love are when you tell me what you think might happen.**

**Next time!  
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	8. Hindsight & Foresight

**Happy Wednesday to all my lovely readers! Here we go with a new chapter, and I'm warning you now. This chapter has violence pertaining to knives and guns, bad - really bad - language, forced sexual situations, torture and just about anything else I feel like warning you about. Don't say I didn't warn you! **

**And remember when I said this wouldn't be your typical Edward/Bella story? Yep. That's all I'm saying. If you're easily squeamish and don't think you'll be able to handle this, I want to apologize, but, well, I warned you.  
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**So, go on! Read.  
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* * *

><p><strong>Hindsight &amp; Foresight<strong>

**Back then.**

The outside of room 304 seemed like the door to Hell as Edward stood in the hallway wondering how he'd gotten to this point. It had taken less than five minutes to get here from his suite, and Mike had refused to stay behind. Edward couldn't say he didn't understand. Lucy was his sister, and if it was Rosalie — despite her brash attitude — Edward wouldn't hesitate wanting to get to her if someone was hurting her. No measure of good could come from this. Bella wouldn't like this at all.

The elevator down had given Edward a fair amount of time to try talking his way out of this situation. No matter what Bella had already done to Lucy, Edward had to do anything he could to take the attention from the innocent girl involved to have it focused on him. At this point, Edward knew more of what Bella was capable of than either Mike or Lucy knew, and he could take it. He chanted this to himself the whole way down.

_I can take it._

_I'm stronger than she is. I can take it._

Now that he was here, Edward felt himself losing his nerve.

"Why is this happening to my sister?" Mike demanded from Edward's side.

The truth was already weighing on Edward's shoulders. He couldn't even say it out loud anymore. "Just stay out here," he pleaded.

Mike shook his head. "No way. She's my sister. I'm responsible for her. Whoever this Bella person is, I'm not leaving this room without my sister."

Edward didn't respond to that, reaching to knock just as his phone rang. He glanced at Mike and pulled his phone from his pocket. It was Bella. "What?"

"It's open."

A heavy breath escaped his lips, and he wrapped his hand around the door handle squeezing his eyes shut as he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The first thing he saw was Lucy tied to a chair in the dress she'd been wearing the night before. She was gagged and bleeding, crying as Bella hovered over her brandishing the same knife she'd used on him. Edward expected to see Bella and Lucy. What he wasn't expecting was to see Jacob Black leaned against the wall with a glass of vodka in his hand.

Edward had only met Jacob once at a party in San Francisco, and now six months later, he looked exactly the way Edward remembered. Long russet-colored arms extended out of his short sleeves as a thick, muscular neck flexed when he cracked the bones of his spine. The black hair on his head was spiked with almost neat precision, and his eyebrows furrowed over intense brown eyes the moment he saw Edward and Mike.

"Who the hell is this?" Jacob asked with a nod in Mike's direction.

Bella took her attention from Lucy for the slightest second, now wearing the same clothes she'd been in upon arriving at the hotel the day before. Partially smeared make-up painted her face, adding to her disheveled appearance. Edward wondered exactly how long she'd been in this room with Lucy and Jacob. The moment she saw Mike, fury filled her eyes.

"I told you to come alone."

She stepped away from Lucy still holding her knife and standing in front of Edward. No one had ever looked at him the way she was right then, and his pulse increased as he shielded Mike from her advance.

"It's his sister, Bella," Edward said. "He was with me when you called. I tried to keep him away."

She clenched her teeth, lifting the tip of her knife to the hollow of his neck and pressing. The metal slipped over his skin as he swallowed. "I told you what I would do if you didn't come alone."

Edward glanced at Mike. "Bella, please."

She snorted then, glancing at Jacob and nodding.

There was no hesitation in the 6'5" movie star's movements as he stood up straight and made his way to where Edward and Mike were standing. Edward tried to keep Mike behind him, but Jacob grabbed the unexpected inhabitant from behind him to shove him into the middle of the room. Jacob pulled a chair to face Lucy and sat Mike down, tying him down and gagging him the way Lucy was.

"Mike?" she cried. Then she sobbed. "Why are you doing this to us?"

Bella glared at Edward still holding him at knife point.

"I told you to come alone," she repeated.

He looked at Lucy and all the blood covering her. It was his fault she was here, and now her brother was in the same situation.

"You're insane," Edward yelled. "All of this is insane! I can't believe I brought you here. I don't understand why you're doing this. These people — They didn't do anything to you, Bella. Let them go." Edward looked at Mike. "I'll stay."

Instead of responding to him, Bella stepped in front of Mike as he stared at her wide-eyed.

Without speaking, she ripped the front of Mike's shirt exposing his chest. She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, showing her knife to him and then slicing the blade through skin just under his collarbone. Mike groaned over the cloth in his mouth, clenching his teeth and trying to pull his arms from his binds.

"Oh, he likes it," Bella said amused. "I wonder what he'll do when I do this." She moved the knife to the other side of his chest to slice a mark similar to the first one. Mike groaned again, looking at Edward as Jacob slapped the side of his head.

"Bella, stop," Edward pleaded. "I told you I would stay. Let them go."

"And exactly why is that supposed to persuade me on anything? You mean nothing to me, and you've made it clear that I mean nothing to you. So we're going to do what I say until I'm satisfied that you understand that you're worth no more than that fucking whore you left me at that motel for. And first, you're going to shut up."

He stepped closer to her. "Bella — "

His face met the barrel of the handgun she'd shown him the previous day, and Edward felt his knees lock and his feet freeze to the floor beneath them. A knife was one thing. Edward could handle her holding a knife on him. But a gun was something else entirely different.

"Shut up."

Edward clenched his teeth pressing his lips together and feeling his heart throbbing in his throat. A smirk crossed Bella's face, and she lowered the gun to press it under his jaw.

"Now. I know you're a whore. I don't care how fucking chivalrous you appear to some pimp's bitch. You said last night that you don't know this girl," she gestured to Lucy. "You said she was nobody. That means she's nothing to you. So you're going to prove it. Fuck her."

With the gun aimed at him, Edward couldn't move one way or another. Mike looked at him almost as soon as the words came out of Bella's mouth, his eyes wide and filled with terror. Knowing Lucy could hear everything that was going on despite her inability to see, Edward realized what Bella was asking him to do.

"You want me to rape her?"

The evil grin that spread over Bella's face confirmed his fears.

"You're crazy," Edward exclaimed. "I'm not going to fucking rape her! I won't do that to anyone. What I did before was different!"

Bella pulled back the hammer of her gun, pressing the end of the barrel into his jaw harder. "Don't piss me off any more than you already have. Do it. Or I'm going to find someone who will. Of course it won't be as poetic — one whore screwing another. But at least I'll get the satisfaction of knowing you'll have to live with the fact that I gave you the choice and you refused."

Edward clenched his fists, looking from Lucy to Mike and then Bella. "No."

Indignation flooded Bella's face, and Edward leaned closer, feeling the barrel touch his throat.

"No," he repeated.

She moved her finger to the trigger, and Edward looked at Lucy. He remembered everything she'd done the night before and wished he could go back to the moment before he'd stepped into the bar. Given the moment to do over, he wished he'd gone in the opposite direction. None of this was supposed to be happening, and now it was ending in a way he'd never imagined.

"Strip him," Bella ordered Jacob.

Without a word, he pulled his own knife and began ripping off the rest of Mike's clothes. Confused, Edward watched Bella step in front of Mike and pull her knife out again.

"You won't do what I say, so we'll see what I have to do to convince you."

She laid the blade under one of the cuts already there to make a new one underneath it. Mike screamed around his gag, and Edward took a step forward to stop her only Jacob shove him away. Despite not having much experience in hand-fighting, Edward was still strong enough to punch Jacob, and he struggled to get away from his much taller opponent. Jacob's clenched fist connected with his nose, and Edward felt a sharp pain erupt behind his eyes. He stumbled back until he was shoved into the wall. The back of his head hit the wall, and stars blossomed all over his vision.

"Fuck."

"Watch your mouth, Cullen," Jacob warned. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to tarnish that shining reputation you've had up to this point."

Edward felt something warm and wet drip from his nose, and he knew he was bleeding. He stood up from the hunched position he'd been pushed into, watching Jacob stand guard while Bella continued to slash at Mike's chest.

"Did she brainwash you or something?" Edward asked Jacob. "Are you honestly okay with the fact that she's torturing innocent people?"

Jacob flashed a brilliant white smile, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans and remaining still. "At least I help my friends when they need me."

"That's what you call this? You're helping her hold two innocent people hostage while she's torturing them and threatening to do horrible things to them — things worse than killing them. Yeah, some friend."

"Will both of you please shut the fuck up?" Bella demanded. "I can't hear myself thinking over here."

Edward cursed under his breath trying to move around Jacob and failing.

"Don't do this," Edward pleaded. "I'm the one who left you in the street. You can do whatever you want to me. Please just let them go."

Bella glared at him, holding her knife close to Mike's face. "What makes you think this _isn't_ what I planned to do to you before? Watching you sit with her and laugh with her and hold her hand. Did she make you feel like everything was going to be okay? Did the innocence in her voice send chills down your spine? This _is_ your punishment. And if you don't shut your mouth, the consequences will start to get worse."

Edward took a step toward Jacob, getting shoved back before he took another step to push Jacob out of his way. They struggled for a minute before Jacob kneed Edward in the crotch, causing him to double over and drop to his shins. Once there, Jacob kicked Edward in the gut and then the face. Even more blood began pouring from Edward's nose and now his mouth, and Jacob grabbed a handful of his hair yanking his head back.

"If you don't believe her, get up again."

"Actually," Bella interrupted. "I have a better idea."

Before Jacob could make a move to Edward, she stepped away from Mike and pulled another chair from across the room. She didn't say anything to Jacob — didn't really say anything at all — gesturing to the chair with nothing more than a raised eyebrow. Jacob yanked Edward to his feet and then shoved him into the chair. Within seconds, Edward was restrained, and Bella faced him with her knife.

"You're so intent on being involved. Let's see how involved you really want to be."

Bella nodded to Jacob, and no words were spoken as he moved around to face Edward and began to disrobe him. Buttons flew in all directions as his shirt was ripped off, and fabric slashed as Jacob yanked his jeans off. There was no hesitation in Jacob's movements as he pulled Edward's underwear from his body. Suddenly, he was naked, exposed, and tied to a chair as Mike sat by watching with even more fear in his eyes. The way Lucy's eyes scanned the room helplessly told Edward she could hear what was going on. But they were all trapped.

"We're going to play a game," Bella announced, standing in the midst of their circle like a ring leader at a circus. "And Edward gets to go first. No passing. No switching. You choose or you get a hatch mark."

The room fell silent, and Edward shut his eyes trying to calm his breathing.

_This isn't happening._

_This can't be happening._

Bella laid her hands on his shoulders, pinching and wrapping her palm and fingers around his neck. A large hand grabbed a handful of Edward's hair and yanked his head back. He winced and clenched his teeth.

"Choose which of the two of them gets a new scar," she demanded.

Edward huffed. "No."

Her index finger slipped down the middle of his chest, over his scar and then she ripped both of his bandages off. He jumped and bit his tongue to keep from yelling the way he had the night before.

"Funny, I didn't even know you had a heart in there," Bella joked, laying the tip of her knife against the hollow of his neck but not pressing. "Choose, or I will. And I might not choose you."

Confused, Edward looked at Mike and then Lucy. "But you said — "

"I lied. You should know all about that." She let go of him and stepped back to be between Mike and Lucy. Edward realized she was waiting for him to tell her what to do. How was he supposed to do this? Did she really think he was capable of it?

Before Edward could say anything, Bella took a step toward Lucy. Mike groaned through his gag, moving in his chair and trying to pull his hands free again. The hand twisting Edward's hair let go, and Jacob stepped in front of Mike, punching him so hard the chair tipped but didn't fall. Bella took another step toward Lucy, and Edward tried to pull his hands apart unsuccessfully.

"Wait," he pleaded.

She stopped.

"Mike."

The same malign grin crossed Bella's face as she remained still with her eyes drifting over his body and then back to his face. There was no hesitation in her next move as she took another step in Lucy's direction, reaching out and ripping off the top of Lucy's dress. The fabric gave easily to Bella's grip, and Lucy shrieked around her gag, more tears falling from her eyes. Bella removed the cloth from her mouth, still grinning.

Bella faced Edward still standing next to Lucy and forcing him to look at the cuts already littering her bare chest. Realization hit Edward in the face as the bruises and blood told him so much had happened that he didn't want to know about. He didn't want to know Bella had already hurt Lucy and nothing he did right now was going to make any difference at all. How could he have allowed something like this to happen?

"How about now?"

The smirk on Bella's face infuriated Edward as he sat there unable to stop her rampage. But he wasn't letting her make him do anything to hurt either of the innocent people she'd decided to take her frustrations out on.

"You know what your problem is," Bella said to Edward. "Your whole life, you've had people around telling you how better you are than everyone else who isn't as rich as you are or as beautiful as you are. And you know what? All those people are wrong. Because you're no better than a fucking whore working the streets trying to get her next fix. The only difference between you and them is they get paid. You get nothing for your trouble. Because that's all you are. A whore. And I'm going to be the one to prove it."

Whether she was right or wrong, the truth was Edward couldn't give in to her insults simply because she was trying to piss him off. If he agreed to her demands, Edward would be doing something worse than anything he'd ever done. If it was someone he knew, he wouldn't hesitate to throw himself in front of it.

When his father had threatened to fire Angela if Edward didn't follow the path that had been laid beneath his feet, it had caused Edward to realize how important she was to him. Now, four years later, Edward hardly spoke to her, but she was safe. Edward didn't know Lucy. How could he do this to her?

"My God, somebody help me please!" Lucy cried. "Please!"

Bella slapped her hard, and she screamed. Edward tried to pull his hands free again, watching Bella grab hair at the back of Lucy's head and tug on it roughly.

"I told you to stay quiet, you fucking cunt! You don't want me to make this worse for you than I already have planned."

"Please," Lucy sobbed. "I never did anything to you. I never did anything!"

Bella tugged on her hair again, and another scream echoed around the room. A frustrated groan left Bella's mouth as she took her knife and began sheering Lucy's hair off.

"Shut the hell up!" Bella commanded, swiping the tip of her knife along the back of Lucy's neck just enough to leave behind a new cut.

"Stop!"

The word left Edward's mouth before he realized what he was doing, and Bella actually listened to him, moving away from Lucy with most of the hair she'd cut off still in her hand.

"And exactly why should I do that?"

Without thinking of what he would do next, Edward spoke loud and clear. "I'll do it."

Bella smirked curiously. "Excuse me?"

Again he spoke without thinking. "I'll do it. Just please stop hurting her."

"Well, I never fucking believed you'd really agree to it. Guess you're as much of a whore as I always believed. No wonder my father never liked you."

She stepped in front of him, grabbing his face and leveling her eyes with his for nearly a minute. She was trying to see if he was telling her what she wanted to hear so she would cut his restraints. Edward wasn't sure why he was saying he would do anything. It was obvious what she wanted him to do, and he knew what would happen if he tried to get away. Lucy and Mike would be left here helpless, and God only knew what would happen if he pissed Bella off more than he already had.

"Oh, you'll do it," Bella grinned maliciously. "You'll do it, or I'll make sure none of you make it out of this room alive." From behind her, she pulled her small handgun and tapped it to his forehead. "You'll fuck her, or I'll kill her."

Bella glanced at Jacob, and he slapped the back of Mike's head on the way to where Edward was sitting. A glint of silver caught Edward's eyes, and within a second, his wrists were free. Bella kept her gun close to his face; for several seconds, Edward didn't move, rubbing his skin despite only being restrained for a short time.

"Take her in the bedroom. Use the cuffs."

Again, there was no hesitation as Jacob stepped in front of Lucy and grabbed her by the arms. He lifted her like she weighed nothing, tossing her over his shoulder as she began struggling. Once, his grip on her faltered, and Edward watched her fall to the ground crying loud as Jacob yanked her up again. He slapped her and lifted her swiftly to carry her out of the main room of the guest suite.

Mike screamed around his gag, and Bella kicked his chair sending it to the floor with a loud thud. Lucy's cries filled the entire suite for as long as it took Jacob to finish hand-cuffing her to the bed post, and Edward listened as he tore her dress away. He shut off the part of his brain telling him to run, and when Jacob came back into the room, it sealed his fate. Jacob pulled Edward to his feet, keeping his hands behind his back as Bella faced him. In a last ditch effort to spare Mike the horror of listening to what was about to happen, Edward tried to persuade Bella.

"Let him go. I'll do it. But please let him go."

Bella pressed the gun into his neck again, lowering her other hand and wrapping it around his cock. Edward jumped at the contact, and she grinned again, malcontent shining in her eyes. "I have a better idea. You'll do it. And he can watch."

No opportunity was given for him to try again as Jacob pushed him away from the living room to the bedroom where Lucy was. She was naked now like him and Mike, and she was handcuffed to the heavy brass bed post by her wrists. Her legs weren't restrained, and she was tucked all the way up to the wall despite how uncomfortable it obviously looked.

Jacob shoved Edward onto the bed, standing close until Bella shadowed him. They switched places, and Jacob promptly pulled a still restrained Mike to the doorway. Edward tried to move to the far side of the bed, but it didn't matter. Mike was going to see this no matter what. The unnaturally tall movie star held Mike's head in place so he couldn't look away, and when Mike tried to shut his eyes, Jacob forced his eye lids open.

Her gun held high enough to hit Edward and close enough to make it point-blank, Bella stepped closer to the bed. Edward hesitated, and she threw her arm out, slashing his arm with her knife.

"Do it!"

He clenched his teeth, scooting closer to Lucy as she still cried.

"Please. Please don't do this to me."

Edward glanced over his shoulder at Bella, covering Lucy from her and laying his hands over Lucy's arms. She fought him and kicked him away. Bella pulled back the hammer of her gun, and he ground his teeth together.

"Don't touch me!"

Slowly, Edward wrapped his hands around her legs and pulled her from the wall. She kept fighting, and Bella moved around to the side of the bed before he could say anything to Lucy. He wanted to tell Lucy he wasn't going to hurt her if she stopped fighting. He needed to tell her if he didn't keep her near him Bella was going to shoot her or him, or both of them. She had to know the more she fought him, the worse this was going to be.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Lucy kicked him again close to his groin, and he grabbed her ankle. Mike screamed from just outside the door to the bedroom, and Jacob punched him again, silencing him easily.

"What are you waiting for?" Bella demanded. "Are you afraid you'll damage her or something?"

Edward glared at Bella, grabbing Lucy's other ankle and pulling her closer to him. She shrieked and tried to kick him away.

"Please! Please don't do this to me."

Her body was suddenly beneath his, and Edward whispered as softly as he could.

"I know what I'm doing. I'm sorry, but if I don't, she's going to kill us all. And I can't let that happen. I'm going to get you out of here. You have my word."

The butt of Bella's gun slapped against the back of Edward's head, sending a sharp pain through his neck and shoulders. "Do it," she yelled.

Against the pain, he lifted his head to look at her. "All right! I'm not a fucking robot."

With a mocking pout, Bella stroked his hair and then yanked his head back. "Do you need a little help getting it up?" she teased.

She didn't wait for his answer, kneeling onto the bed as he laid there with Lucy completely covered by him and reaching between their bodies. Her hand wrapped around his cock again, and cold chills wracked Edward's body as she began stroking him. This entire situation was nowhere near arousing at all, but Edward willed himself to not think about the gun in her other hand.

"Oh, that's it, you whore."

Lucy still cried, grasping onto the cuffs around her wrists keeping her restrained to the bed, but she stopped kicking, trying to back away despite there being nowhere for her to go.

"Doesn't matter what you say," Bella whispered in Edward's ear, and he shivered again feeling his body respond to her. "You're a slut, and we both know it. I'll even be nice and get her ready for you."

Without putting her gun down, Bella moved her fingers from him to Lucy. Bewilderment and discomfort spread across Lucy's face, and while she still tried to get away, her own body began to respond the way Edward's had. She clenched her eyes shut, as a reflex Edward was sure, and Bella moved her hand away, lifting the gun in her other hand to the back of Edward's head.

"She's all yours, big boy."

Edward couldn't prepare Lucy for what was about to happen. He couldn't tell her that he didn't want to do this anymore than she wanted him to do it. It wasn't even possible for him to find out if she'd ever had sex before. The last thing he wanted to do was feel anything but disgust and contempt for what Bella was making him do, but Lucy's body responded the instant the tip of his cock came into contact with her warmth. Instinct took over as Edward wrapped his hand around Lucy's thigh. The end of Bella's gun pressed into his skull behind his ear, and he pressed his forehead to Lucy's.

_I can't do it._

_I can't do this._

"Don't fucking dick out on me," Bella warned. "You're doing this, and you're doing it now. You've already started. Now finish. Or I'll kill you both. Then maybe I'll have a little more fun with Mikey before I waste him."

Edward hesitated, and for a split second, Bella took the gun away. But she only moved it to push the end under his jaw again.

"Do it," she commanded. "Or she dies. And you'll have to live with it the rest of your life. Because you'll be the only one I leave alive."

Lucy sucked in a deep breath then, lifting her head until her lips touched Edward's ear, and she whispered so low he almost didn't hear her.

"Do it. I can take it. Don't let her hurt my brother."

He leaned back to look at her even as Bella pressed the gun into his throat. Nothing could've prepared him for her saying that to him, and what scared him even more was that she actually looked like she knew what was going to happen. Edward didn't nod or make any sudden movements, shaking his head so Bella would release his head. He glared at her again, and she reached between his and Lucy's bodies again to continue playing with them.

After a minute of Bella's coercion, and once Edward had a little more leverage with his arm above Lucy's head, he pushed Bella away. She resisted, but he shoved her back off the bed to keep her from seeing the moment he actually moved inside Lucy. She grit her teeth together, stifling the groan that tried to escape. Edward felt sick instantly, knowing he was hurting her despite not wanting to, but the urge to move overwhelmed him. His skin rubbed against hers uncomfortably, but the longer he laid there, the more he had to finish or he knew it would hurt them both for him to stop.

"Come on, big boy," Bella taunted. "Show us what you're made of!"

Edward didn't think — didn't want to think — and he shut off the rest of his brain allowing him to feel and know that he was doing exactly what Bella wanted. All he could really do was move and breathe and fight the urge to release all his hostilities on the girl he was already fucking at gunpoint.

Bella laughed a few times as she watched, and a deep chuckle echoed through the room, signaling that Jacob was also watching. Edward had no control over what was happening with a gun on him, and it fucking killed a piece of him every time he heard one of them make a noise like they were enjoying what they were seeing.

Bella continued to tease him. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"

No amount of warning could prepare him for the sounds of a struggle behind him, and his body did its own work of finishing what Bella had started as the chair Mike was tied to fell back into Jacob. Edward heard the two of them fall to the floor, and a loud crack startled him. He couldn't move and really didn't want to as Bella stepped away from the bed with her gun still aimed in front of her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you spineless dick?"

All movements stopped as the grunts and groans of someone punching and kicking fell on Edward's ears, and for several seconds, he thought it was Jacob using Mike as a punching bag.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that, you fucking asshole," Bella yelled.

Two bodies fell into the room, and Edward looked over his shoulder just as Mike stumbled into the room over Bella. He saw Jacob laying in the living room on the floor, unconscious, and seconds passed as Mike struggled to get into the room. He was only about ten feet away from the bed when Bella shouted again.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

She pulled the hammer of the gun back again, and Mike stopped his advance. Without pausing too long, Bella lowered her finger to the trigger and squeezed.

Edward covered his head and Lucy's as the gunshot echoed around the room. He was laying there naked and had no way of protecting Lucy if he moved, and the minute he felt the gun at the back of his head, Edward knew it was over now. Nothing he did or said was going to prevent Bella from doing whatever she wanted to him and Lucy.

"Get up," Bella commanded.

He didn't hesitate, moving away from Lucy and leaving her on the bed as he stood up to face Bella. Mike was on the floor, a gaping red hole marring his abdomen. Edward swallowed the bile threatening to leave his throat.

Jacob was still unconscious. He wouldn't be coming to Bella's rescue any time soon. Edward knew it was now or never.

"You are the most worthless cunt I've ever seen in my life," Bella spat waving the gun in his face.

He didn't know if she had any more bullets in the gun, and he didn't care. This was ending right now. Even though he was standing there naked, Edward had several inches on Bella, and he had to stop her before she did anymore damage.

"You think any of this matters? You have no fucking clue what I'm capable of, and I'm gonna prove it to you right now."

She backed out of the room slowly, still holding her gun on him and making it to the living room where his clothes were still strewn. His cell phone was still in one of the pockets, and much to Edward's surprise, it rang just as Bella reached for it. The malign grin on her face couldn't be denied as she took the phone and opened it.

"Yes? Oh, yes. Just a moment."

Bella moved to where he was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, extending his phone to him and again aiming the gun at him.

Edward lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Edward?" Bree whispered. "Is that you?"

"Bree? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"No. You have to come back out here. Something's wrong."

He turned away from Bella, watching Lucy tuck herself back up against the wall. "What's happening? You should be gone by now."

"No one — I mean, it wasn't — He didn't even know — " She screamed then, and a gunshot rang out over the phone.

"Bree, what's happening?"

"Edward, please. Please you have to come. I think he killed my dad."

Another scream tore through the phone, and the sound of a struggle replaced Bree's voice. Then he heard her again, but she was no longer talking into her phone.

"Please don't hurt me," she begged. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I won't tell anyone you were here. Just let me go. Please, please, please!"

"Shut up! You worthless bitch. You and that goddamn whore who brought you along with him. I'm ridding myself of you right now."

She screamed louder, and Edward felt it in his toes. Then he heard another gunshot.

"Bree," he yelled into the phone.

A deeper, familiar voice replaced hers. "I told you I always take care of my own business."

Blood drained from Edward's face, and he got lightheaded more quickly than he anticipated, stumbling back into the room and finding the bed to sit down only a moment before Bella attacked him the way she had the night before.

Her hands wrapped tightly around his neck, and he realized the gun was no longer in her possession. It didn't matter now that she was choking him. His vision turned white, and he lost feeling in his hands. Blackness replaced the white an instant before Bella yelled and fell away from him. As soon as the tingling sensation dissipated from his hands, Edward rose to see Bella crouched in the floor with her hand covering her nose as it bled. He turned his attention to Lucy.

"Did you just — "

"Fucking bitch," Bella groaned.

"How?"

"Oh, that does it," Bella griped, rising from the floor to leave.

Edward moved faster than he thought possible, grabbing her and pushing her back onto the bed. Bella glared at him indignantly and was about to get up again when Lucy kicked her in the head. At first it only pissed her off, and she pulled her knife from her back pocket.

"You wanna play footsie? Let's see how you fucking like this," she taunted, converging on Lucy and giving her enough room to kick Bella in the throat.

Edward couldn't believe what he was seeing. Bella grabbed her neck and started to slip off the bed. It didn't make sense how Lucy was getting the leverage to do anything, but before Bella could get very far, Edward shoved her back onto the bed. Confusion eased across Bella's face, and he lowered his eyes to see the blade of her knife stuck in the top of her chest under her collarbone. Blood oozed from the wound, and even though it didn't look very bad, it was enough. Her hold on him loosened, and he dropped her to the floor to hurry to Lucy.

A sob escaped Lucy's lips as Edward scooted as close to her as he could.

"It's okay," he whispered. "She can't hurt you anymore."

"Where's Mike?" she demanded. "Where's my brother?"

How was he supposed to tell her that her brother was lying in the floor with a gunshot wound to his stomach? Edward didn't even know if Mike was alive.

She sobbed harder, tugging on the handcuffs. "Please. Where's my brother?"

Edward lifted his hands to her face, and she tried to move away.

"He's in the floor," Edward whispered to her. "I don't know if he's alive. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"No," she pleaded. "Please, God, no."

"I'm sorry."

Her cries filled the bedroom as Edward looked around. He saw his phone on the floor, scooting away from Lucy reluctantly and picking up his phone. There was no hesitation in his reflexive dialing, and he moved to the bed as the person he'd called answered.

"I can't talk right now," Siobhan answered. "This isn't a good time."

"I don't care. I can't call the police, and you're the only person in this God-forsaken city who has the ability to help me now. Please. I've done something horrible, and I can't — This is too much. I don't know what to do."

She was silent a minute, and the sound of a door closing signaled she was alone before she spoke again. "I haven't had a chance to send Alec to your friend's house. Liam is home, and he's keeping me from the garage."

Edward huffed. "Don't bother. And now you owe me. Please," he sobbed. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Edward." Her voice was filled with guilt, and silence filled her end of the line for several more seconds. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think — "

"It doesn't matter now. And I don't give a shit if Liam is home. Just do it. Room 304 at the Bellagio."

Siobhan huffed. "Give me ten minutes. I'll figure something out."

He didn't wait for her to hang up, doing it himself and feeling the weight of what he'd just done settle into his shoulders and then his gut.

_I can't believe I did this._

_What am I supposed to do now?_

Ten minutes seemed to take forever as Edward sat in the bedroom hovering somewhere between remorse and insanity. He felt so stupid for allowing any of this to happen. Meeting Lucy was one thing, with its own set of consequences that he would have to live with the rest of his life. But Bree was another subject all together. He'd only wanted to help her, and now she was dead. Edward was absolutely positive of it. Nothing he'd done for her had mattered.

He didn't hear the door open, nor did he hear the footsteps that crossed the hotel room to the bedroom where he sat. His eyes scanned the room, seeing Mike and Jacob and Bella. In an attempt to see if she was alive, he moved toward her only to be stopped by a deep, commanding voice.

"Don't touch her!"

His hand was less than an inch from the knife in Bella's chest, and he looked up to see an unfamiliar man standing at the door with a dark-brown-haired woman behind him. The man wasn't very tall, probably about 5'9", but he held himself like he stood ten feet. Edward watched as he strode into the room wearing a pinstriped black suit and carrying a small metal briefcase.

"Edward Cullen?" He had a strange accent unlike Siobhan's but similar

A nod was the only movement Edward could force his body to produce.

"I am Alec O'Rearden. My mistress sent me to get you and to help you clean up. Do not touch anything else. We can't have the police here in the city finding any more of your presence here. Can you move?"

The action seemed foreign to Edward as he sat dumbfounded. He glanced at Lucy, and Alec did as well, motioning for the dark-haired woman to enter the room.

"This is another of Ms. McManus' private security. Gianna, please take them both to the bathroom and get them cleaned up."

Gianna followed Alec's lead, also dressed in a black pinstriped suit along with a pair of high-heeled boots. Her long dark brown hair flowed freely as she walked, but she soon secured it to her head a moment before she reached Edward's side to help him to his feet.

"She's handcuffed." Edward heard his own voice but couldn't tell if he was really speaking or not.

This didn't slow Gianna down as she sat on the bed close to Lucy. A small cry left Lucy's lips, but Gianna shushed her.

"It's all right, love," she whispered. Edward heard a slight Italian accent in her voice. "We're just stepping into the bathroom over here. Come on now."

With a small hair pin, Gianna uncuffed Lucy from the bed, helping her to her feet and then shoving them both into the bathroom as Alec remained next to the bed.

Nothing much registered after Gianna closed the bathroom door. Edward only vaguely remembered taking a shower and getting dressed. Lucy's soft sobs were the only thing he really thought about, and when they were shuffled out of the bathroom, Alec was still standing next to the bed. But now he was holding a small syringe in his hand, and the small metal briefcase was lying open next to Bella.

"The blond gentleman in the floor is dead," Alec reported, his voice distant. "I'm sorry. The tall one in there is unconscious. I've arranged for him to taken to another hotel, and I've made sure he won't be harmed." While he stood over Bella, Alec laid the syringe over Bella's wound. "This one here is also still alive, but only just. I'm guessing it wouldn't help you one way or another if she lives or dies."

Edward observed silently, and after another minute, Alec stepped away from the bed to be in front of him. Despite their height differences, Edward felt compelled to keep his head bowed. Something about Alec reminded Edward of Siobhan, and he wondered how well they knew each other. There was a certain confident arrogance about Alec that should've frightened Edward, but he couldn't think beyond the fact that he'd stabbed Bella — or caused her to stab herself.

"Gianna will take you to Ms. McManus' safe house outside the city," Alec informed Edward. "I would tell you where your friends will be, but I don't think you want to know. Do you?"

"No," Edward whispered. "And they're not my friends."

Alec nodded as he rubbed his hands together. "All the same. Go on then. You don't need to be here anymore."

There was no protest as Gianna nudged Edward toward the door. Lucy was wearing pants and a shirt that looked too big for her, and the clothes Edward wore also felt a few sizes too large. He could only wonder who they belonged to. The bright living room seemed even more so now that the sun had begun to set. Edward hadn't realized so much time had passed.

Gianna checked the hallway, guiding Edward and Lucy away from the hotel room and taking out her phone. They stepped onto the elevator as she spoke.

"Alec's finishing up just now. I'm leaving the hotel." She glanced at Edward. "Yes. He's all right — well, on the outside, anyway. Yes, mam. Yes. Of course. We'll be half an hour at least."

She turned off the phone then, no more words leaving her mouth as they rode the elevator to the lobby.

The silence was deafening — so much so that Edward felt like he was going to lose the weak hold he still had on his mind. How was he supposed to fix this? People were dead. Edward was lucky he wasn't dead. And Lucy —

"Where are we going?" she asked softly.

Edward had no idea where Gianna was taking them, and when she didn't say anything after another minute, Lucy spoke again more demanding.

"Will someone please tell me where you're taking me?"

"What's important," Gianna announced, "is you'll be safe until Mr. Cullen decides what to do with you. Ms. McManus will know what to do." Then she muttered, "Not exactly sure what Liam is going to do, but oh well."

"Who's Ms. McManus?" Lucy asked.

Though he hadn't had the chance the tell Lucy much about him, Edward felt like he could protect her despite what he'd done to her. Gently, he nudged her away from Gianna and lifted his hands to her arms. As she had in the bedroom, she tried to push him away. Edward held on as securely as he could.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted her to hurt you. I wish I'd known she would do this, but I — "

"My brother is dead! I don't care if you're sorry. And now I have no idea where I'm going, and I don't have anywhere else to go! I don't know you, and I didn't know her! Why is this happening to me?"

Edward tightened his hold as gently as he could without hurting her. "This is my fault. I know that. And I wasn't smart or observant enough to see what she was doing. I can't do anything to change that, and I'm sorry. It's all I can say. We're going to a safe place. I will get you away from here. I will make sure you're not tied to this, and I will keep anyone else from hurting you. I didn't want this. I won't ask you to trust me, but I'm begging you to stay calm. Please, Lucy. I'm sorry."

Her anger subsided as more tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. With a glance in Gianna's direction, Edward hesitantly pulled Lucy closer until her head was resting against his chest. He didn't have any right to comfort her after what he'd done, but it was all he could do. No matter how much he wanted it, Edward couldn't reverse this. It couldn't be changed.

The elevator dinged and then opened, and the lobby of the Bellagio filling with new patrons warranted all of Edward's attention. Gianna motioned for them to step out first, and though he was still reluctant, Edward eased his hand down Lucy's arm to hers. She surprised him, allowing him to pull her from the elevator without a word of protest, and after a few steps, Gianna followed them. No one seemed to notice them walking through the lobby, and it appeared their guide wanted it that way.

A black SUV pulled up under the awning less than a second after Edward stepped outside with Lucy, and a valet brought the keys to Gianna before she motioned for them to get inside. Fear simmered up above the guilt already threatening to drown him, and he hesitated.

"You want the police to find you then?"

He glanced at Gianna, glancing around and guiding Lucy to the back passenger door. After helping her inside, he followed, and they were away from the hotel before anyone could stop them.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

"I'm confused," Peter said causing Edward to lift his eyes from his hands as he fidgeted steadily. "I mean, I understand that you wanted to get Ms. Wilson away from there, and I'm sorry about her brother. But Ms. Swan and Mr. Black. You didn't care what happened to them at all?"

Edward tucked his chin to his chest. "No."

Widening his eyes dramatically, Peter leaned forward in his chair and dragged his fingers through his short hair. "My God."

Having stopped just short of telling Peter exactly how he and Lucy had gotten away from the hotel, Edward was actually a little relieved. And if Peter believed him, it would mean no one would ever have to know that Lucy had actually helped him despite what he'd done. No one would have to know that Edward called Siobhan and asked for her help after what had happened to Bree. No one would have to know about Liam — yet.

"I'm amazed you got out of there alive," Peter commended. "For her to have a gun on you the whole time. I'm sorry, Edward. I had no idea anyone like that could really exist — even after everything I've seen as a criminal defender. There's only one problem."

Slowly, Edward lifted his eyes. "What's that?"

"Well, if Lucy heard all of this, then she's a witness. She'll have to give a statement to the police, and if we get a trial, she'll have to testify."

Edward shook his head. "No."

Deeper confusion creased Peter's already furrowed forehead. "I don't understand. Why not? She can prove you never wanted to do this. Even if you agreed to it after having a gun in your face. She can help."

"She's been through enough. And I can't put her through a trial."

"Do you want to go to prison?"

Peter's eyebrows met his hairline as he gazed at Edward with a slight pleading on his face. But it didn't matter what argument was offered. Edward couldn't do anymore damage to Lucy's life, and he knew a trial would open up everything that had ever happened to her. She was a victim, yes, but she'd helped her assailant flee the scene of a crime even if he wasn't the only one who'd hurt her. Everything that had followed him seeing her in the hotel bar had been completely his fault, and he was going to be the only one who paid for it — period.

"It doesn't matter what happens to me. The most important thing to me right now is her safety, and she's safe here."

A little smirk appeared over Peter's cheek. "You see, I think it does matter. Why else would you bring her _here_? Based on what you just told me, you had every opportunity to put her on a plane to destinations unknown. If you didn't care what happened to you and only wanted her safe, why bring her to your home where any number of people outside your family would eventually have access to her?"

"I wasn't thinking." Edward shook his head. "And she was so scared. I couldn't leave her in Las Vegas."

Peter sighed loudly. "I still feel like there's something you're not telling me. And I really need to know everything. Whether you want it or not, I might not be able to use Lucy as a witness, but once the DA finds out, they'll definitely want her as theirs. They don't know this, so when it comes out in court, I can still use it."

Edward started to protest, but a knock at the door stopped him.

Peter stood up and moved to open the door, allowing Jasper inside alone.

"Police Commissioner's here," he announced. "He brought Sam and a uniform. They're asking to see her."

Edward stood then. "Please, you can't let them talk to her. I know I don't have any right to worry about her, but I'm trying to protect her. If they take her away from here, she won't be safe anymore."

Peter eyed Edward curiously, still grinning and glancing at Jasper.

Edward's older brother closed the door softly, moving across the room to another door that led upstairs. He nudged Edward along with him, speaking to Peter quietly.

"We'll be down in a few minutes. Keep the Commissioner busy."

Jasper offered no more explanation, pushing Edward up the stairs and closing the door behind them. Edward didn't ask where they were going. He and Jasper had used this staircase to the second floor often as children. When they emerged in their parents' bedroom, Jasper spoke in a hushed voice.

"I don't know exactly what's going on with you. But I've never seen you so determined. Are you going to tell our father what you told Peter?"

"He wouldn't be able to handle it," Edward argued. "I'm not sure I can handle it, and it happened to me."

They crossed their parents' room to the hallway, and before Jasper allowed Edward to leave, he listened to make sure it was clear. "You shouldn't be so hard on him about Elizabeth," Jasper continued. "Maybe you don't want to remember it, but he was just as hurt by her death as you were. I really think he loved her."

To that, Edward refused the swallow the insult he felt split its way up his throat. "Yes, the way he loved Siobhan. Wonderful."

Jasper stopped and turned to face his brother. "Siobhan? Liam McDonnel's wife? What does she have to do with this?"

Edward couldn't regret what he'd said. It was obvious Jasper didn't know what their father had done before meeting their mother — well, Jasper's mother. "Ask _him_. Maybe he'll tell you after you're in Las Vegas. I have to see Lucy before they take me."

No argument came from Jasper as he led the way from their parents' room to the west wing where Lucy was staying. Despite her being much more than a guest at this point, Edward knew she was still there based on the number of maids making their rounds through the hallway as he and Jasper got closer to her room.

Esme was sitting on the bed with Lucy when Edward and Jasper stepped inside. The two women looked up from their quiet conversation, and Esme rose from the bed to face them.

"This isn't a good time. Lucy needs her rest."

"The Police Commissioner's here," Jasper told her. "Edward wants to talk to her before he leaves."

Esme lifted her eyes to Edward. She didn't say anything, glancing at Lucy and then following Jasper out of the room.

"You have probably five minutes," Jasper said to Edward.

No reply came as Edward stepped closer to Lucy where she sat on the bed. She turned her head toward him the moment he sat down. He didn't make any moves to touch her, hoping she would understand they were alone now.

"You're leaving," she said.

"I have to. If I don't, things are going to get out of hand. I didn't tell Peter about Siobhan, and I have to make sure he doesn't find out. My father will keep you here where you're safe, and if he has to leave, he'll take you with him. You can trust him."

Though she couldn't see him, Lucy lifted her hand slowly until her fingers touched his cheek. A soft set of chills shook Edward's body, and Lucy laughed for the first time since the night he'd met her. Then her smile faded.

"Who's Elizabeth?"

Edward smiled sadly, gently taking her hand away. "It's not important."

She nodded. "I think it is. Otherwise someone would've told me when I asked the first time. Why do I remind your mother and father of her? Who is she?"

After glancing at the door a few seconds, Edward spoke quietly. "Elizabeth died when I was sixteen. You remind my father of her because she never let anything slow her down. And Esme isn't my mother. She's my aunt. It's a long story."

Lucy touched his face with her other hand. "Elizabeth was your mother?"

Edward nodded without saying anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Anyone still with me will understand the warnings. Now, I have to tell you, I've run out of my head start, which included eight chapters. I'm working on Chapter nine now, and as soon as it's edited, I'll post it.<strong>

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, but don't stop there.**

**Not sure about a preview, but if you leave a compelling argument, I might change my mind. ;-)**

**Until next to time!  
><strong>


	9. Retracing Foot Steps

**It's that time again! It's only been a week, right?**

**There's not too much going on in this particular chapter as far as anything needing a big warning. There's some language and a few revelations, but I'm pleased.**

**I'm really liking this story, and I'm hoping everyone reading is enjoying it too.**

**Thanks for reading, and thanks to everyone who's reviewed and put this story on their alerts. I really appreciate it.**

* * *

><p><strong>Retracing Foot Steps<strong>

**Back then.**

Bright shimmering towers along the city streets gave way to the dark mountains surrounding the suburbs. Edward's eyes tried to focus on a familiar landmark. All he could see was the soft glow of moonlight on the road as it stretched out in front of the SUV. But he wasn't afraid. Worry about how he would get home and what would happen once he got there continued to be prominent, but he wasn't scared.

"Where are we going?" Lucy asked.

Before Edward could say anything, Gianna spoke resolutely.

"Miss McManus has a safe house near Lake Mead. She and Alec will join us as soon as everything in the city is taken care of. I'll take a look at your wounds once we're settled."

No room was left for further discussion. Edward looked out the window beside him without saying anything to Lucy. What would his father think? How was he supposed to explain all of this?

"What's going to happen to me now?" Lucy asked. "I don't have a home to go back to."

Even Gianna nearby, Edward wanted to keep Lucy reassured that nothing was going to happen to her once this was over. Her safety was the most important to him now.

"I can take you to my home," he offered. "You have no reason to trust me, and I don't deserve it anyway. But you'll be safe there. I promise."

"No, you don't deserve it. My brother is dead because of you. And she — My God she was crazy. She kept yelling that I took you away from her. I tried to tell her I didn't even know you. And that man with her. He wouldn't help me no matter how much I cried. What was wrong with her?"

There was no answer for Edward to give her when he didn't know the answer himself. Clearly, he hadn't known Bella at all. And now so much had gone wrong.

The car stopped before he had a chance to say anything, and Gianna stepped out silently to step back to the door beside Edward. He stepped out without a word, turning to help Lucy. No hesitation came from her as she scooted to the edge of the seat and allowed him to lift her from the SUV and set her gently on her feet.

A soft grimace escaped her lips when Edward held her left arm to guide her inside, and he looked down to see if she was hurt. What he saw made his blood run cold.

There etched into her skin in a messy scrawl only a small knife could make read the word '_damaged_.' For several seconds, Edward couldn't move. No words could describe the sick feeling simmering in his stomach. Of all the horrible words Bella had called Lucy, and all the foul things she'd made him do, this was worse than all of that combined. No other word would have made him feel like this.

Gianna huffed from his other side and moved closer to them. "What's taking so long?"

With Lucy's arm still in his hand, Edward looked at the woman who had driven them out here. The instant she laid her eyes on Lucy's arm, her expression mirrored his instantly.

"_Il mio caro dio,"_ she whispered. Then she reached for Lucy. "Come on, love. It's all right."

She didn't wait for Edward, pulling Lucy from the SUV toward the three-story house in front of them.

The house was dark and silent as Gianna guided Lucy into the front foyer and then the large living room. Edward followed quietly, uncertain of his surroundings and even more worried about how this would affect what happened when the sun came up in a few hours.

"Wait in here," Gianna told them, depositing Lucy in front of the empty fireplace and then leaving without another word.

Edward sat next to Lucy, noticing that she didn't pull away as he reached for her arm. She winced softly when he pressed his finger against the small cuts etched into her skin.

"Sorry. I'm — really sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry," she pleaded. "If I hear it any more, I'm going to stop believing you."

He cringed as he stared at her cuts, but he couldn't say anything else.

Gianna came back after another minute of awkward silence carrying a small black bag. She knelt in front of the fireplace, laying a few pieces of wood and then kindling before she took a long match to start a fire. Slowly, a brilliant orange light stretched out toward them, bringing heat with it as Edward shook with chills. He hadn't even realized he was cold. Then Gianna sat on his other side.

"Look at me."

He did as she said, and she lifted a wet cotton ball to the corner of his mouth. Sharp pain seeped through his skin from the cut there.

"You look like you went a few rounds with a prize fighter."

Edward huffed, thinking of Jacob Black and feeling the back of his head throb. "If you say so."

She moved the cotton ball to his nose, and he backed away before she grabbed his arm. "Don't be such a baby."

Grudgingly, Edward clenched his teeth, shutting his eyes and grimacing as she began wiping blood from his face.

"Ms. McManus should be here shortly. She'll need you to tell her everything that's happened. I must admit, I don't exactly know what you plan on her doing about this."

"Why do you call her that? Don't you work for Liam too?"

Gianna pressed another cotton ball against his mouth. "No. I'm part of her private security. She pays me. And I could care less about Liam McDonnel." She paused, lowering her eyes to his torso. "You'll need to take off your shirt."

For a reason unknown to Edward at that moment, blood rushed to his face, causing him to blush as he unbuttoned the shirt she'd given him and then pulled it off. Without saying a word to him, Gianna began cleaning the cuts over his ribs. They still burned despite having been bandaged up earlier.

"Did you clean these yourself?" She pressed more cotton to his skin, and it burned a little more.

"Yes."

"Not bad." She laid new bandages on them and then lifted a fresh cotton ball to the cut on his arm.

"Thanks."

"Did she do this to you?"

The memories still fresh on his mind simmered to the surface of his mind, and Edward pursed his lips. "Yes."

Once his arm was clean, she bandaged the cut there and stood up.

"Do you have any injuries anywhere else?"

At that very moment, the only thing that really hurt was his head, and he didn't know if he was bleeding there or not. "My head hurts."

She left silently, and in the time it took her to return, Lucy reached for his arm to have him face her.

"She hurt you before?"

Her fingers sent a million tendrils of electricity through his body, and he lifted his hand to hers. "Before she hurt you?" he asked. She nodded. "Yes."

She found his face without being able to see him, and Edward placed his hand over hers. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know. I thought she — "

"It's fine. I was stupid. It's not your fault, and I shouldn't have involved you. I wish I hadn't even met you."

Gianna strode into the room then, carrying a crystal glass filled with a light brown liquid. Sitting down on Edward's other side, she extended the glass to him.

"Drink this. It will take care of your headache."

With one sniff of the liquid, Edward knew what she was giving him. He hadn't drunk whiskey in months, not since the last time he'd been in Las Vegas, and this particular brand smelled the same as it had before. Still, he downed the liquid in one gulp, feeling it burn his throat and the fill his stomach before he spoke. "Jameson, right?"

Gianna smirked. "Familiar with it, I suppose."

Though Edward said nothing back, his silence answered her loud and clear.

After pouring Edward another glass, Gianna moved to Lucy's side with the small black bag. He couldn't watch as she began cleaning the cuts on Lucy's arm, and he rose from the small lounge chair they'd been deposited on. A white robe lay on the couch nearby, and out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw Gianna remove Lucy's shirt. There was nowhere else he could look as the small cuts across Lucy's chest glimmered in the fire light, and Gianna began cleaning them off gently.

"It's all right, love," Gianna whispered.

How could he not have foreseen something like this happening?

What was he supposed to do now?

An immeasurable amount of time passed, and Lucy ended up wearing the robe while Gianna took the clothes she'd been wearing to dispose of them. It was at this point that she rose to face Edward.

"I'll need the rest of your clothes also."

Again, he blushed, this time knowing he didn't have anything but pants on and embarrassed as he stripped in front of a woman he didn't know. The reason for his embarrassment refused to be apparent to him. It wasn't like he hadn't been naked with unfamiliar women before now. But Gianna's interest in his clothes wasn't to seduce him or even see him naked. She wanted his clothes to get rid of them. The moment she handed him his own robe, Edward wondered exactly what had become of his and Lucy's clothes from the hotel room. Had Alec disposed of them as well?

"As I said, Ms. McManus will be here shortly. Most of the staff is away until next week, but I believe we have some food in the kitchen if you're hungry."

The rumbling in his stomach made itself known just as she spoke, and Gianna smiled only a little, stepping away from him with his clothes.

Though his stomach was relatively empty since he hadn't eaten in several hours, Edward wasn't very hungry. The dryness in his throat was only being worsened by the whiskey, but he kept drinking it. He knew it would numb the pain he was feeling in his head along with the rest of the pain he was feeling that wasn't noticeable by anyone else.

Before he could move to sit in front of the fireplace, the front door opened and allowed in two dark figures. The first was shorter than the second, and as light from the living room spilled into the foyer, their identities became known. Alec was still wearing his black pinstriped suit, but the jacket he'd been wearing was hanging off his arm, and his briefcase was gone. Siobhan stepped into the living room ahead of Alec, facing Edward as the laugh lines around her mouth creased into a half-smile. But then she frowned.

"You're hurt," she said, touching his face. "I'm sorry."

"Can you fix it?"

She glanced at Alec, and he nodded without speaking. She looked at Edward. "Don't worry about anything. She won't be bothering you anymore. But you need to tell me everything that happened."

Edward glimpsed at Lucy as she still sat in front of the fireplace, speaking as he also gazed at Alec. "Not here. I can't go through all of it again knowing she might — " he stopped lifting his eyes to Siobhan.

She looked at Lucy, pausing for a moment before she turned her eyes to Alec's. They communicated silently, and he moved to Lucy's side.

"Come with me, my dear. You need to rest."

Lucy allowed him to help her to her feet, remaining quiet while he guided her out of the living room to the stairs that led up to the second level of the house. Once they were on their way, Siobhan gestured to the lounge chair, and Edward sat down as dread and fear settled into his gut.

"You need to tell me what happened after we spoke this morning," she said to him. "And I need to know exactly what it is you expect me to do."

Edward was silent another minute or two, sitting still while he fidgeted steadily. Then he spoke. "I never should've left Bree alone. I should've stayed until I was sure she was safe. But I left, and when I got back to the hotel, I was going to go home. Lucy's brother Mike found me in the lobby."

He told Siobhan everything from the moment he and Mike had gone up to his hotel room up to the point that he and Bella had struggled for her to stab herself with the knife she cut him with the night before. It sounded so unbelievable. Who would understand how he could've allowed any of it to happen the way it had?

"Well, I can tell you that your friend isn't dead," she said of Bella. "But she lost quite a bit of blood, and there was damage to her spinal column when you and Lucy fought her. Alec took her to a facility outside the city where Liam usually takes people he needs to disappear. No one will find her until you want them to. Edward." She touched his face, and he looked at her. "You did the right thing. If you hadn't, the two of you would be dead if what you say about her killing that boy is true."

Edward shook his head. "It's not good enough. I should've known something was wrong. I should've seen how crazy she was the first time I saw that gun. And because of what I did to Liam, he — " He huffed leaning over with his face in his hands. "I'm so stupid."

"You're young," she insisted.

"That's just an excuse. And I let a fucking feud make me think I could get away with it! You know Liam had them killed," he said of Bree's family.

A heavy breath passed her lips, and Siobhan pressed her lips together. "Yes, I know."

"And you won't do anything about it?"

Disbelief filled her eyes as she looked at him. "Exactly what do you expect me to do? He already knows I was trying to help you! He knows you were here six months ago, and he knows you came here to taunt him."

"I don't give a fuck what he knows or why. He had innocent people killed because of me. Because I decided to play him, and I won. No one should've paid for him being an incompetent asshole. And you have more power than he does."

"He's my husband!"

Edward glared at her. "He's a coward. And you knew that when you married him. Whatever he is, he doesn't deserve anyone's loyalty — least of all yours."

She rose from the lounge chair and turned away from him. "You don't give him enough credit. And though I do know what he's done, if I retaliate against him, there are people who work for him who will not work for me. More people will die. I can't do that."

"But you wanted to before — when he had my father gunned down on a busy New York City sidewalk."

Siobhan faced him again. "No one knew that for certain," she argued. "And it was your father's involvement with his family's business that got him shot — not Liam."

The need to defend his father overwhelmed Edward to the point that he stood up to be in front of her, and she blushed deeply. "My father loved you. He still loves you. Don't ever accuse him of anything else. And you hate Liam. You always have, and you know it's true. There's no reason for you to defend him against me or anyone else." Edward paused, pulling in a cleansing breath and sitting back down. She followed him, and he turned to her again. "He killed a sixteen-year-old girl because she knew me — because I asked you to help me keep her safe. And the people he sent there killed her parents. They never stood a chance. If I'd stayed, there's a good chance I'd be dead too. You're better than he is. Prove it. Help me."

The sound of Gianna clearing her throat from the far side of the living room interrupted them, and Siobhan stood up reluctantly, meeting her guard and whispering where Edward couldn't hear them. Gianna glanced at him several times as they spoke, and her face changed from unemotional to worried in seconds.

"Make sure the Mercedes has gas, and there should be clothes to fit them in the guest bedroom on the second floor," Siobhan said, her voice a few notches above the whisper she'd been using. "Just do it."

Gianna didn't argue, looking at Edward again before she left without acknowledging what Siobhan had said.

"I can help you get away from here," she said to Edward. "And I can assure you no one will know you were here. But Liam — "

"You can't go back to him knowing this and not do anything about it," he pleaded. "I'm begging you. If he was willing to kill a family of strangers, how far do you think he would go to put a hit on my father again? And how much effort do you think he'll put into making sure he gets the job done this time? Siobhan, please."

The most conflicted look crossed her face, and Edward felt his anxiety increase. Her eyes flickered from him to the fireplace two or three times, and it wasn't until a couple of minutes passed that she spoke quietly.

"What would you have me do?" she asked.

Edward didn't hesitate. "You know what to do. It's what you should've done before."

No denial of his proclamation came from her, and she glanced around to make sure they were still alone. "It won't be as easy as you think. Liam has more guards than the president. And I only have so many of my own people who are still loyal to me. The police — "

"Won't care about a dead Irish Mob Boss. This is my father we're talking about here. You can't let anything happen to him. Not because of me, and not because of what I did."

As she contemplated what he said, Edward thought of all the people he would have to keep out of the loop on this. His father would expect nothing less after their last fight, and Jasper would probably think Edward had orchestrated the whole thing. Rosalie wouldn't give him any sympathy at all, but Edward didn't expect her to. And Esme was another story altogether. There were so few people he could trust with this, but he was sure of one thing. He had to protect Lucy. And that meant she had to play a part in this.

"Do you plan on telling Carlisle what's happened?" she asked after a long moment.

Edward shut his eyes at the thought of explaining this to his father, tucking his chin to his chest. "I can't. He won't understand. And we fought before I left. If he knew what really happened, he would think it was his fault, and no matter what he kept from me, I did this. I'm the only one responsible for it."

She barely paused. "That might be better than the truth. If he thought this was all some scheme to get back at him and not a result of a crazy girl's idea of revenge, we could protect him a little while longer."

"How long do you need?"

"For Liam? At least three days. I'll have to tell Maggie some excuse to get her away until this is over. And you'll have to wait to tell anyone else about this. Based on all of this, it won't be long before Carlisle calls me."

"And what are you going to tell him?"

Despite what they were talking about, she laughed. "That depends on what he asks me. And if he does what I think he'll do, then I won't have to tell him much to keep him satisfied. But he'll eventually need to know. He's your Dad."

With his head still down, Edward opened his eyes, but he didn't look at her. "I know. And I also know what I'll have to do to him just to keep him safe."

Siobhan lifted her hand to his face, and finally, he looked at her. "He'll forgive you. He loves you too. And I really am sorry about that girl you wanted me to help."

He turned away, but she stopped him and pulled him closer. She'd never held him before, and he didn't need her to do it now. But the moment her arms closed around him, Edward began crying nearly as hard as he had earlier that day when Bree's mother had held him. Marilyn Tanner hadn't really known why he was crying, but Siobhan did. After everything that had happened between her and his father, there was no way she couldn't know.

"It'll be all right," she whispered to him. "I promise."

Edward didn't say anything back.

Then she leaned back and looked at him.

"You need your rest. You'll be safe here, and once everything's been taken care of, we'll get you home. Go on upstairs now. Alec will have clothes for you."

There was no arguing on his part as he stood and left without looking back.

Alec was standing outside a door at the end of the second floor hallway, and Edward took a chance that Lucy was behind that door. Piercing solid blue eyes stared Edward down as he approached, and when he stepped in front of Alec, the imposing man gave him only one warning.

"She's been through enough for one night. If you must see her, and it looks like you should, try not to upset her anymore."

He said nothing else, stepping aside and opening the door for Edward to go inside the dim room on the other side.

No longer wearing the white robe given to her by Gianna, Lucy was now dressed in a pair of cream-colored satin pajamas as she sat in the floor away from the bed. Her head turned in his direction as the door closed, and when Edward spotted clothes laying on the bed for him, he decided now would be a good time to change.

Lucy never spoke. She barely acknowledged him until he knelt in front of her in the t-shirt and pants left for him.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

A snort was her eloquent reply.

"Sorry. That's a stupid question. But you're safe here. Bella won't hurt you anymore. She can't. And we'll leave tomorrow. But we have to talk about how all of this is going to go once I get you to my father's house."

"Why?"

"Because there's still a lot that could go wrong, and I want to keep you safe."

"So talk. It's not like I can go anywhere."

He sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled just as fast. "Right. It's about Siobhan's husband Liam. If he found out what happened, I'm pretty sure he would make another move against my father — by hurting me or even you. And if he found Bella, he would use her to make my life miserable — "

"How does that have anything to do with me?"

"It wouldn't if I hadn't seen you last night and if Bella hadn't taken you. Lucy, I never wanted any of this to happen. But now that it has, it's too crazy for anyone to believe. And if Liam knew the truth, he would use it to take my father down — literally. So I can't tell my father the truth until I know Liam won't be able to use me to hurt him."

She changed her position to have her legs crossed in front of her. Edward scooted a little closer and sat down next to her. "What do you plan on telling him instead?" she asked.

"For starters, the police will have to be involved. If I can convince them I did this alone, they'll have to take time to get everything in order. I technically fled the scene of a crime, and as far as anyone knows, you're still missing." He paused, reaching for her bandaged arm again. "Everyone has to believe I did this to you on my own — for a little while anyway."

"How long?" Her other hand found his for the first time, and Edward thought there might be hope for him yet.

"A few days. Maybe more. Long enough for Siobhan to make sure Liam can't move against my father. We'll leave in the morning, and once we're in Chicago, I'll take you to my father's house. No matter what anyone says, until I tell you it's safe, you can't tell anyone the truth about Bella or Mike. And you'll have to be alone for a little while until I get back to you. My father has to believe you."

"And if he doesn't? He's your father. Why would he think you could do all this alone?"

"He won't want to. Not at first. But I'll have to convince him — for the time being anyway."

She leaned in closer to him, whispering despite them being alone. "Just because you saw me, it doesn't make you completely responsible for this. I know you didn't want to do this even though you did it. She was threatening you — and me. She killed my brother, and you're going to let her get away with that?"

"No," he swore. "But I have to protect you. I have to protect my father. It's just for a few days after we get to my father's house."

"In a few days, this could blow up in your face."

Edward could only sigh as he sat there in front of her. With a glance around the room, he pulled her to her feet and sat her on the bed. "Everything's going to be okay," he promised. "I know it will be okay."

She grasped onto his arms, preventing him from moving. "No, you don't. You tried to stop her, and she killed my brother. Who knows what will happen if you let people think you did this by yourself? Just tell them what she did. She deserves whatever happens to her."

He shook his head even though he knew she couldn't see him. "I can't. I have to keep you safe, and if anyone knew about her, I wouldn't be able to do that."

"I can take care of myself," she proclaimed. "I don't need any help."

"You can't stop Liam from finding you, and he _will_ find you. It's what he does. It's how he found my father on a busy city sidewalk in the middle of three million people, and it's how he almost killed my father just for being with the woman that would make him stronger than he was alone."

The determination on her face faded. "He tried to kill your father?"

"Before I was born. And I can't let that happen again. Not to my father or you — not like it happened to Bree when I tried to save her. I know it feels wrong," he admitted taking her hands in his. "And I know it won't be easy. No one will want to leave the two of us alone, and we'll have to be careful about what we say. When it's just us, we can talk about whatever we need to."

"And when it's not?"

Edward wrapped his hand around her bandaged arm. "I'll do this. It'll be okay for you to be mad at me. And you can even say what you want about Bella. But you can't let anyone know about Liam or Siobhan."

She shook her head just once. "I still don't know why it's so important for no one to know what she did. She was crazy and homicidal! And it can't be worth having your whole family thinking you're some kind of monster." She paused laying her hand over his. "But okay. I'll do it."

"Thank you," he exhaled.

"Oh, don't thank me. Because the first time I see this little plan of yours skidding out of control, I'm coming clean. And if anyone believes for a single second that I'm some little helpless blind girl, I won't keep your secret any longer."

Edward wanted to argue with her. It was for her safety that he was doing this — however backward it felt. But he kept telling himself he didn't have a good reason to ask her any of this despite trying to protect her from Liam. If she wanted to make her own conditions, he couldn't stop her. "That's fair enough. You should get some sleep. Siobhan will probably have everything ready in the morning. I'll sleep in the floor."

He started to stand up, but she stopped him.

"Don't leave. Please."

Her eyes tried to find his, settling somewhere between his nose and his mouth, and Edward thought for a few seconds that she was actually seeing him. No one had ever spoken to him the way she did or touched him the way she had.

But why did she want him to stay with her after everything he'd done?

He didn't pause to figure it out, finding an extra blanket and then helping her onto the bed before he followed her. She gave him no time to settle on the opposite side of the bed the way he'd intended, laying close to him as he draped the blanket over her. Reluctantly, he laid in front of her and watched her eyes grow heavy as she spoke.

"Tell me something about you I need to know before I do this," she whispered.

It was the strangest request anyone had ever made to him.

What was he supposed to say?

He paused and spoke as honestly as he ever had. "The first girl I slept with was a maid my father assigned to me when I was nineteen. She's worked for my family since she was eighteen. Every time I go home, she acts like it never happened, but when I look at her, I can see in her eyes that she wouldn't have it any other way. And when my father tried to fire her a couple of years ago, I changed the clause in her employee contract so he couldn't ever send her away."

"Because you love her?"

The plea in her voice was unmistakable, but Edward couldn't lie to her. "No." He hesitated when he realized how horrible that sounded. "At least I don't think so. I just didn't want him to have control over another person's fate."

Though it still sounded awful, his pitiful excuse for a confession seemed to satisfy her as she relaxed in his arms and laid her head against his shoulder. She fell asleep more gently than Bree had, and when that thought crossed through his head, Edward knew his mind was made up.

He would go home with Lucy and tell the police he'd been the one to take her and hurt her. He would tell them he'd taken advantage of her all on his own, and he wouldn't tell anyone else the truth until he was sure Liam couldn't come back to take a hit at his father.

Whatever happened after that, it didn't really matter anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

Half an hour had passed since Peter took Edward into his office, and Carlisle paced like a caged animal the entire time. Despite being worried about his son, Carlisle couldn't stop wondering why Edward would mention Siobhan at a time like this.

How did she have anything to do with what Edward was going through right now?

Carlisle had called her for help, yes, and Edward had been around her and Liam in Las Vegas, but as far as Siobhan had said, that was all. Why would Edward bring that up now?

"Peter will get to the bottom of this," Jasper said as he watched his father pace.

"Of that, I have no doubt. But I still don't like that I can't be with Edward. He needs me."

Jasper stepped a little closer. "It's all that attorney-client privilege mess. When Edward thinks we're ready, he'll tell us."

Carlisle shook his head. "That's what worries me. I don't know if he'll ever think we're ready. And I wish I knew why he was so scared to tell me."

The doorbell rang before Jasper could respond, and Riley appeared out of nowhere to open it.

The moment Carlisle saw the Police Commissioner and Sam step through the door with a uniformed officer, he knew he'd run out of time.

"Carlisle," Sam said stepping in front of the Commissioner.

Carlisle extended his hand. "Sam," he greeted with a nod. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed as the Commissioner took Sam's place. Carlisle tried to be cordial despite his anxiety.

"Mr. Cullen."

"Commissioner Clearwater."

The tall, serious-faced man didn't beat around the bush. "We're here for your son Edward. We have a warrant for his extradition to the state of Nevada in connection with crimes committed in Las Vegas four days ago."

Sam chose that moment to speak up. "We were also told by District Attorney Denali that a Ms. Lucy Wilson was being kept here, and he's instructed us to also take her into protective custody. I'm supposed to get a statement from her about what happened with Edward."

Jasper only glanced at his father. "I'll get Peter," he said without acknowledging Sam or the Commissioner.

He left silently, and Sam watched before looking at Carlisle again.

"Peter Jackson?" he asked.

"Yes. Under the circumstances, Jasper thought it would prove useful to have someone legally capable of defending Edward since the police haven't been helpful. Sorry, Sam."

Sam shrugged. "I understand. It's just convenient that he's here. A messenger from Judge Crowley's office brought some papers for him by the precinct."

"Sam," Commissioner Clearwater said, his voice distant and hard. "Maybe you should go back to the station. I think enough leeway has been given to Mr. Cullen's son."

The condescending tone in his voice set Carlisle on edge, and it took more of his energy than he had to spare to hold in his retort.

"It's not a problem, Harry. I can handle this."

"You're too involved in this as it is," was the Commissioner's annoyed reply. "Edward Cullen confessed to raping and kidnaping a woman. He doesn't deserve our help."

"Actually, Commissioner," Peter said as he walked into the foyer slowly, "if what I just found out is right, then Edward deserves more leeway than any defendant I've ever served."

A dissatisfied expression crossed the Commissioner's face as Sam stepped forward with a thick manila envelope.

"Mr. Jackson, Judge Crowley's office dropped this off at the precinct just before we came out here. Guess they thought you'd be there."

Peter smiled appreciatively. "Actually, I wanted it delivered there. I had to be here early, and I figured you'd come with the Commissioner. It's all still sealed up, I hope."

"Of course," Sam smirked.

Peter opened the envelope unceremoniously, looking over the several sets of papers inside and smiling at Carlisle as Esme and Jasper came down the stairs alone.

Carlisle turned to face them instantly. "Where's Edward?"

"He'll be right down," Jasper assured his father.

"Where's the girl?" Commissioner Clearwater demanded. "We have orders to take her into custody and get her statement."

"About that," Peter interjected. "I have an order from Judge Crowley myself stating that Ms. Wilson is not to be removed from Carlisle's care for the duration of proceedings against his son. You want her statement? You'll have to clear it with Judge Crowley, and since I was on the phone with her since very early this morning, I'm sure she's gonna be real happy to help you," he teased with a smirk.

Before the Commissioner could come back with a remark of his own, Edward appeared at the top of the stairs alone. Esme didn't wait for anyone else, hurrying up the stairs to him and taking him in her arms. He didn't hesitate in returning her embrace, and after nearly a minute, she leaned back and whispered to him. With a glance in Carlisle's direction, she stepped around Edward and moved up the stairs while he continued down to his father.

He didn't say anything to Carlisle or Jasper, glancing at Sam before he faced the Commissioner. "I'm ready."

Commissioner Clearwater didn't wait for anymore comments, protests or snarky remarks, glancing at the uniform behind him and nodding.

"Officer Cameron."

The young, tall police officer pulled a pair of shackles, moved behind Edward and began securing the cuffs to his ankles.

"Is that really necessary?" Carlisle asked, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"It's all right," Peter assured him. "I'll be with him the whole way. It's just a ride to the airport."

"I don't think so, Counselor," Commissioner Clearwater argued. "He's in our custody now. You can catch your own ride to the Show Me state."

Peter smirked. "And normally you'd be within your rights to deny me that privilege, but in this case, I'm afraid you don't have a choice. I have an order from Judge Crowley saying I'm not to leave Edward's side until he's processed into the detention facility in Clark County. That includes a trip to the airport, and I'd be much obliged if you could keep your condescending tone in check."

The Commissioner's mouth twitched with a remark he kept to himself, and Peter nodded with appreciation before he looked at Carlisle.

Despite Peter's best efforts, Carlisle was still overcome with emotion watching his son shackled from his ankles to his waist. This was wrong, and Carlisle could see that Edward had already accepted it. He stepped forward, taking Edward's shoulders in his hands.

"Be strong, Edward. Please. This isn't over by a long shot. I promise."

Surprise filled Carlisle's chest as he watched tears spill down his son's cheeks.

"Please just keep her safe," Edward whispered. "For as long as you can."

"I'll protect her like she's my own," Carlisle swore.

Officer Cameron finished, finally cuffing Edward's hands in front of him and nodding to the Commissioner. "He's all ours."

They began to leave with Peter in tow when Carlisle stopped them.

"Wait."

He stepped closer to Edward and wrapped his arms around his son's shoulders, holding onto him as tight as he possibly could. "I never wanted to fail you," he whispered softly. "We'll get through this together, I swear. I'll be right behind you."

Edward's hands reached out and grasped the front of Carlisle's shirt, and for a moment, he was confused. Then Edward whispered.

"You didn't fail. I just never listened to you. I'm listening now."

Carlisle leaned back and looked into his son's eyes that were so much like Elizabeth's. He lifted his hands to Edward's face and stared without saying anything. After another minute, he let go of Edward and stepped back.

Officer Cameron pulled Edward to the door and the Commissioner followed without saying anything to Carlisle or Peter.

"Don't worry about anything," Peter said to Carlisle quietly. "Just get on a jet to Vegas as soon as you can. We'll talk to the judge there. He's already got my motion for the bail bondsman."

Carlisle acknowledged Peter with just a nod, and in an instant, he was gone as well.

Jasper waited until the door closed to step up behind his father and whisper urgently.

"There's something we need to talk about before we go to Vegas. It's about Siobhan McDonnel."

Carlisle made no moves to show he even heard Jasper speak. But then he bowed his head and turned his eyes in Jasper's direction. "We'll discuss it on the jet. I'll have Esme help Lucy. She's coming with us."

He offered no other explanation, leaving Jasper in the front foyer alone as he hurried upstairs. Edward had just told him something important, and he couldn't ignore it anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm working on the next couple of chapters now, and we're getting closer to the spot where our two stories will merge. I'm also thinking of doing a companion story to give us a little history concerning Carlisle, Siobhan and Elizabeth.<strong>

**That's probably a ways off. I've got to do research, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.**

**So I'll see you all next time!  
><strong>


	10. Fear and Loathing

**Good Morning all! I don't really have a lot to say up here - just thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed and put this story on their alerts and favorites.**

**I'll have more at the bottom.**

**Now, go on! Read!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Fear and Loathing<strong>

**Back then.**

For the second time in two days, Edward woke to find himself in the warm entanglement of a girl whose life he was trying to save. And for the second time in two days, it made him feel better than he had in years. He didn't want to open his eyes. If he did that, he would have to face the reality of everything he'd done. If he opened his eyes and faced what he'd done, he was afraid he wouldn't come out on the other side at all.

Fingertips touched his cheek and his nose and then his lips, and against his better judgement, Edward peeled his eyes back slowly. Lucy was still there, touching his skin despite her own eyes downcast. It didn't matter that she couldn't see him. He didn't need her to anymore. Memories of Elizabeth continued to make themselves known at the forefront of his thoughts, and Edward knew the only thing he could do to make all this right was to go home.

It was the last place he wanted to be after all of this, but it was the only place in the world he knew Liam wouldn't be able to follow him — not without pooling an embarrassing amount of resources to keep his identity and involvement in the order he would put on Edward's father as invisible as possible. Terror and worry were the only emotions abundant in Edward's body, but he had to figure out how to make it seem like something else.

But what?

"You have a scar on your nose," Lucy whispered. "How did you get it?"

Edward smiled at the memory as it bubbled to the surface. "I was fifteen. Learning how to skateboard. Jasper tried to talk me out of it, and my father told me I would get hurt, which meant I had to do it because he said not to. One of my neighbors, Randall had a new skateboard, and he let me borrow it. I got about three blocks before I hit an uneven part of the concrete and flew face-first into the pavement. There was blood everywhere. My father almost fainted. So did Esme. I had to get six stitches."

A smile spread across her face. "Did anyone else know that?"

He shook his head. "No. I told everyone at school that I got into a fight. It was technically true. The sidewalk tripped me."

Lucy laughed, and Edward lifted his fingers to her cheek. He would've never done this to any other girl he'd been in bed with, but this time was different. He was sure of it. The skin of her cheek was slightly swollen and red. Edward realized too late that it was bruised.

"I know you don't want me to say it," he whispered. "But I'm so s— "

Her fingers stopped him before the whole word could leave his mouth. "Don't. Please. I'm not a fragile little girl. And even if no one could've known this was going to happen, it's no one's fault but hers. If you were supposed to be a part of this, she wouldn't have hurt you. But she did."

"But I could've — "

"I told you I could handle it," she cried, holding his face in her hands. "I meant it. Please don't diminish that because I can't see. Don't make it less than what it was because she chose me. You chose me, Edward. You saw me, and for the smallest moment, you made me feel normal. Not even my brother ever did that. He always felt the need to take care of me, and he never really let me prove I could take care of myself. I helped you fight her, Edward. Please don't take that away from me."

"But I was inside you. And I hurt you. I know I did. I had no right to do that."

"And you're alive to grovel over it," she reminded him. "You're alive to fix it. If you hadn't at least made her think you were going to, she would've shot you, or me, or both of us. And it . . . wasn't that bad."

Hearing her say that made him feel even worse than watching the look on her face when she'd told him to do what Bella was ordering him to do.

A knock on the door interrupted their quiet talk, and after a minute, the door opened to allow Siobhan into the room with a tray in her arms.

"Breakfast," she announced. "I thought about making a traditional Irish breakfast for the two of you Americans, but I figured we would skip the culture lessons for this morning. And besides, you need to get on the road."

Edward sat up slowly, helping Lucy as Siobhan set the tray on the bed. "Is everything ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I have a car ready in the garage. Gianna has packed the two of you clothes and money. You'll eat and then get changed."

Though he was hungry and hadn't eaten since the day before at breakfast, Edward still couldn't eat any of the eggs or toast from the plate presented to him. He lifted his eyes to Siobhan as she helped Lucy, and she looked at him without saying anything.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Lucy asked.

How did she even knew he wasn't touching his food? Thinking about Elizabeth, he remembered that after losing her sight, she'd still been able to tell when he wasn't feeling well.

"I'm not hungry," he lied. "But you should eat. I'll be back."

He scooted off the bed and stepped into the attached bathroom without saying anything else to either of them.

Once alone in the bathroom, Edward debated taking a shower. Would it matter? Did it really make a difference if he was clean-shaven and well-rested when he made it home to lie to his father about what he'd done?

In the end, he decided a shower was something he needed if he was going to make it out of this house — and out of Las Vegas. If Siobhan said everything was ready, then it meant she knew what she was going to do about Liam. Edward didn't want to be in town when she started whatever it was she'd decided.

His head still hurt from being slammed into a wall. His nose and mouth were sore from being punched, but his cuts weren't hurting anymore. The bite mark on his neck was still noticeable, but Edward couldn't do anything about that now. Maybe in a few days, it would go away despite the fact that Bella had actually drawn blood from him.

A knock on the door at the end of his shower halted Edward in his thoughts, and he quickly pulled on a towel to answer the door. Siobhan was there with clothes, and against his better judgement, he opened the door to let her in.

"You look like hell," she observed, directing him further into the room and shutting the door.

"Thanks."

They hadn't been alone like this in six months, and even then, her husband had walked in on them before anything major could happen. Now that so much had gone wrong, Edward didn't really need this to happen — because she wasn't his mother or even his aunt. And even though she'd had an affair with his father, it didn't change the fact that she barely looked a day over thirty-five.

"You and Carlisle always did know how to have a hand over the ladies," she commented, laying his clothes over the counter. "Despite everything you told me, that girl out there is damn near ready to do anything you ask her. Normally, I'd say she's probably lost her mind. But it's you. So I get it."

She stepped closer to Edward, looking over his bare chest and then his face. A cold chill in the air caused him to shiver, and he closed his eyes as she lifted her hand to his cheek.

"Siobhan, please. I can't — "

"Relax, will you? I'm just noticing. And I'm just trying to tell you that you're more like him than you believe. It's not such a bad thing, you know. He's a good man, even when he does things that aren't so good. And so are you. Keep telling yourself that after you leave here. And I'll be in touch once I've got control of Liam."

Easing the pad of her thumb over his lips, she leaned in to him until her nose touched his, and she kissed him for the first time in six months. But this kiss was different — chaste and filled with much more sadness than any kiss he'd ever had. Edward knew this kiss was goodbye — for now at least.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, stepping back and then backing out of the bathroom slowly.

When Edward came out of the bathroom dressed and ready to go, Lucy and Gianna were waiting. He had decided to forgo shaving, and his stomach was still gurgling from being nearly empty. But he was as ready as he was going to get. Gianna picked up the two bags Siobhan had packed for them, and she gave Edward a thick envelope before she stepped out of the room silently.

Edward stepped in front of Lucy, waiting until she reached for his hand to speak. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so," she nodded. "Why didn't you eat before? I know you're hungry. I don't understand why you would want to punish yourself like that."

What was he supposed to say?

No matter what she believed, Edward knew he was responsible for everything that had happened from the moment he met Bella and suggested coming to Las Vegas and then played poker with Liam. If he hadn't played poker with Liam and gone to dinner with him, Edward wouldn't have felt the need to go outside their private room for air. If he hadn't gone outside for air, he wouldn't have met Lucy, and if he hadn't met Lucy, Edward was sure he would've walked away from Bella — even if she'd been threatening to hurt someone.

"I'll be fine," he promised Lucy. "We just need to get you away from here."

"How long will it take?"

Without thinking, Edward knew exactly how long a drive to Chicago would take. "A couple of days," he informed her. Then he added, "at least."

She didn't argue with him, following him out of the room with her head down.

Siobhan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when Edward came down with Lucy, and she waited until they were in front of her to speak.

"Are you ready now?" she inquired with raised eyebrows.

He glanced at Lucy and then nodded silently.

A small smile began to form over Siobhan's face but faded almost instantly. "Come along then."

She led them both to the garage where Gianna and Alec were both packing bags into the trunk of a jet black Mercedes-Benz CLS63 AMG as it set ready to be driven. Edward knew the car well since his father had one just like it. Siobhan said nothing as she guided Lucy to the passenger side of the car to help her in. He watched her the whole time until she was in front of him as she'd been in the bathroom.

"Try not to break to sound barrier," she grinned.

He couldn't help but smile sheepishly, and she touched his face after a minute.

"Even if you have to say some awful things to your dad," she said gently, "don't forget that he loves you. The first time I met you when you were sixteen, he was doing everything he could to make sure you survived. He's going to do that now. Are you sure you can watch him do that without telling him the truth?"

"I have to," he resolved, "until I know he's not in Liam's path of destruction again."

She nodded, glancing at Alec and Gianna. "Right. I'll call you."

With little else, she opened the driver's side door so he could slide in, and after she closed the door, she leaned in to say one last thing.

"Be careful. Don't use any of your credit cards, and keep the speed below 60 unless you're on the interstate."

Edward nodded. "Thank you."

She didn't speak again, standing up straight and stepping back as the garage door opened. Brilliant orange light from the early morning hours filled the garage slowly. Edward didn't look back at Siobhan, pulling his seatbelt on and helping Lucy with hers before he turned the car on and left within a few minutes of entering the garage.

The terrain was slightly unfamiliar to Edward even though he'd been driving in from the opposite direction with Bella. He'd taken a completely different path that day, and it had led to the worst two days of his life. The path he would be taking home had to be different, or nothing that came afterward would be worth it.

An early morning news broadcast filled the space of the car as Edward drove farther from the mountains to flatter terrain, reporting weather and traffic as the two radio personalities joked with each other about increasing crime in the city and what the police there were going to do about it. The entire notion embittered Edward as he now drove himself and a girl he'd been forced to violate at gunpoint from the bowels of a city he knew he would be seeing again very soon for a completely different reason.

"I'm all alone," Lucy said suddenly.

A few seconds passed silently, and experimentally, Edward reached for her hand. "No, you're not."

The soft laugh that followed gave Edward the impression that she didn't believe him. After that, he didn't say anything else. He just drove.

Three hours passed uneventfully as Edward crossed the Nevada/New Mexico border, and less than an hour later, he drove through the New Mexico/Utah border to the unfamiliar sounds of a song he'd never heard before. Lucy hadn't asked, simply lifting her hand to the radio to change the station as it began to crackle with static annoyingly. She bypassed gospel, R&B, classic rock and an oldies station in favor of what Edward could only describe as Traditional Country. The nasally voice singing grated at his nerves, but he did nothing to stop her or change the station to one he was familiar with.

"My brother hates country," she said suddenly. "He's always changing the station if I try to make him listen to it."

Edward glanced at her, seeing tears in her eyes, and he wanted to do anything he could to ease the pain she was obviously feeling.

"I made him watch _Pure Country_ once. He said it was the most torturous experience he'd ever gone through."

The tears in hers eyes slipped down her cheeks as she sat back in the seat and folded her arms over her chest. She turned her head away so Edward wouldn't see as she began crying softly. He wanted to hold her so she'd know he was there for her. But he didn't stop driving. He knew it wouldn't be safe until they were a lot farther away, and while he couldn't stand seeing her cry over something that was completely his fault, Edward forced himself to endure it until they had to stop to get something to eat.

A little town five miles from a local airport nearly eighty miles from the Utah border seemed like a place good enough to stop for breakfast, and a tiny diner welcomed them with few patrons and a slender, brunette waitress behind the counter carrying plates to what few customers she had. The moment she saw Edward and Lucy, she smiled.

"Mornin'," she greeted.

He smiled back slightly, helping Lucy onto a stool as he sat beside her. "Good morning."

She handed them menus and pulled out her order pad. "Get cha anything to drink?"

"Uh, coffee, black, for me," he requested.

"Orange juice, please," Lucy smiled.

The waitress eyed Lucy strangely, but she said nothing stepping away from them to get their drinks.

Edward looked over the menu, not seeing anything appetizing, but he hadn't eaten in over a day. He had to eat something if he was going to be driving all day. It wasn't like he could hand over the car to Lucy.

"You don't have to get anything if you're not hungry," he said softly. "But I have to eat something since I'm driving."

"I think you're forgetting one minor thing."

He looked at her. "What?"

She turned her head in his direction, holding up her menu. "I can't read this," she reminded him.

He sighed heavily. "Shit, I'm sorry. Are you still hungry? I know you ate before we left."

Lucy smiled, down putting her menu. "Actually, I have to go the ladies' room. Miss?" she called to the waitress. "Where's the restroom?"

"All the way back and to the left, sweetie."

Lucy stood up, and Edward followed her.

"I'll help you," he said, but she stopped him.

"I can go to the bathroom by myself. I'm sure she wouldn't direct me to the men's room. Eat. I'll be okay. Eggs and bacon are fine."

She pushed him back into the counter, stepping around him and slowly making her way toward the back of the diner. Edward watched her intently, making sure she got to her destination and even after she disappeared.

"Is your girlfriend okay?" the waitress asked setting his coffee and Lucy's orange juice on the counter in front of him.

He didn't correct her, instead pretending that everything was fine. "Yes," he answered. "She's fine. Thank you."

"So, what can I get ya this morning?"

Edward looked over the menu a second time, choosing two platters of the same thing for him and Lucy. She smiled at him as she wrote down his order and disappeared into the kitchen.

Lucy returned after nearly ten minutes, and by then, their food was coming from the hutch between the diner and the kitchen.

"Order up!" the cook yelled.

Their waitress smirked, lifting their plates from the metal counter and then laying them in front of Edward and Lucy.

"Let me know if you need anything else," she insisted.

Edward smiled again. "Thank you."

No words were exchanged as Edward and Lucy ate, and only a few more people entered the diner. No one else sat at the counter, and Edward preferred it that way. The less people who saw them and remembered them, the better.

After the brief stop to eat, Edward paid for their food and helped Lucy to the car, and he got back on the interstate with little happening between the diner and the road. Lucy curled up into her seat and turned her head to the window despite not being able to see outside. She never asked where they were or how long they would be there. Edward thought she might be curious about her surroundings enough to wonder what was going on, but she never said anything.

He wasn't foolish enough to think she was beginning to trust him. After everything he'd done, there was no way she would ever trust him despite the small things she's allowed him to do in the several hours since they'd both been through the most horrible experience of their lives.

Twice more they stopped — once at noon to get lunch and then again to get gas — before they arrived in Denver just as the sun was setting. Though Edward wanted to keep going, he knew Siobhan needed more than just a day to get a foothold over Liam. So that meant he had to stop at night and wait until the next morning to get back on the road.

"Is this part of the plan?" Lucy asked as he drove around to find a small, moderately furnished hotel that wouldn't cause too much of an expense.

"Yes," he said simply.

Though it wasn't what he was accustomed to, Edward found a modest hotel not far from the center of the city. Money was no expense at the moment. They were inside and being waited on when Edward's phone rang from his jacket pocket. The moment he saw Charlie Swan's name flash across the little screen, his pulse increased by a hundred.

He didn't answer the first call, checking him and Lucy into the hotel and getting up to their room before his phone rang again.

"Are you gonna answer that?" Lucy asked from her spot on the lone sofa in the room.

It was Charlie Swan again.

Edward got as far from Lucy as he could, answering his phone more reluctantly than he ever had.

"Mr. Swan."

"Where's my daughter, Cullen?" the man demanded, his voice deep and gruff. "I know she was with you a couple of days ago."

Despite knowing where Bella was for the most part, Edward didn't tell Charlie, opting to lie as easily as he could. "I don't know where Bella is, Mr. Swan. I haven't seen her since yesterday."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Of course not," Edward insisted, pressing his hand into the side of his chest where one of his cuts began to itch.

"You better not be," Charlie warned. "I don't know exactly what my daughter sees in you, but if I find out you lied about knowing where she is, let's just say you won't like what I do to you."

Edward mustered as much anger as he could, responding with an insult of his own. "I don't exactly care what you think you might do if you find out your daughter's nothing but a lying bitch who hates your guts and wishes you'd never started trying to control her. Bella's a grown woman, Charlie," he spat. "Maybe she disappeared to escape you and all the shit you've been forcing her to go through the last ten years of her life."

He huffed, hitting the 'end' button on his phone and then putting it on silent so he wouldn't hear it ring again.

"Why are we here?" Lucy asked as he made it back to where she was sitting.

Edward didn't know how else to explain, sitting down in front of her and reaching for her hands. She didn't pull away, but she turned her face from his and shut her eyes. "The longer it takes us to get to my father's house, the safer we'll be when we get there."

"Why?"

He exhaled sharply, thinking of everything he'd learned of his father's shooting. "Because if Liam finds out what Siobhan is doing and in turn, finds us, there's no measure to how hard he'll come down on my father."

Lucy shook her head. "Exactly why does he hate your father? What happened to make him want your father dead?"

Edward lowered his eyes to their hands, realizing he'd never held anyone's hand before. He'd never wanted to — never had anyone in his life he wanted to do it with, not even his mother. The thought of her crossed his mind — golden, beautiful, perfect — as he looked at Lucy again, and he could see so much of his mother in her.

"It was something so simple," he said softly. "My father and Siobhan loved each other a long time ago. In a way, I know they still love each other. And they would've been married, but my father was hurt. My grandfather and her father forbid them to see each other after that, and then her father met Liam. It was all so convenient. My father being shot, and a year later, Siobhan was married to Liam. I worked so hard to figure it out. There was no way anyone else would've known where my father was that day — no one else but Murphy McManus. Siobhan's father. He wanted a partner from the States because he didn't want to leave Ireland, but the truth was that he wanted a puppet. He threw so much money at my grandfather, and for a while, it was enough. But family was more important to my grandfather, and having his son gunned down on a New York sidewalk made him see how dangerous Murphy was."

Lucy lifted her hand slowly, first touching his jaw and then his cheek. Edward closed his eyes again, leaning into her hand. "I thought you said Liam shot your father," she said.

Edward nodded. "He did, or well, he had someone hired to do it. A year before Murphy met his father Connor, Liam knew something only two other people knew. I only found out about it a few months ago, when I found out who my mother really was. Liam knew it, and he wanted to use it to his advantage."

"What did he know?"

He wanted to tell her, but it was too soon.

"You need to get some sleep," he insisted as he stood up. "Go on. I'll sleep out here."

Lucy huffed, seeming to know their talk was over as she remained sat down. "On this?" she gestured to the sofa she was sitting on at the moment. "It's barely big enough for me."

She stood up to face him, reaching for him and stepping a little closer. "Can you do something for me?" she asked gently.

He didn't hesitate. "Anything."

She lifted her hand to his face again, this time touching his cheek and then his lips. Edward realized a moment too late what she wanted, shocked into silence as she leaned up and tried to kiss him. He stopped her less than a second before her lips touched his, feeling her body closer than it had been in almost 24 hours.

"I can't," he whispered. "I shouldn't. You don't really want this — not after everything I did. Please."

"Would you have done any of it if she hadn't threatened you or me?" she pleaded, keeping him in place as he tried to get away.

"No," he shouted. "Never. I wouldn't have done any of it if I hadn't met her!"

"Then don't tell me what I want," Lucy demanded.

Edward huffed, holding her at arm's length as she gripped his shirt in her hands. "I can't!"

She loosened her hold on him, and he stepped away from her, feeling more angry than he had all day.

"This is_ my_ fault," he yelled. "_I_ did this. I _chose_ to do this. And I have to suffer for it. I'm already forcing myself to lie to my father so he won't know I put my entire family in danger. I can't put myself in a position to hurt you again. Aren't you afraid of me? After everything I did, I don't understand why you're doing this."

"Would you have come to Las Vegas without her?"

He stared at her, confused. "What? What difference does it make?"

"Did you want to go to Las Vegas without her? Or was she the only reason you went?"

"I don't understand," he said shaking his head. "Why is that important? I mean, I knew Liam was in the city before I came, but so what? She was the one who — " He stopped before the words could leave his mouth.

Lucy reached for him, grasping onto his shirt to keep him from backing away again. "She was the one who what? What did she do?"

He shook his head again. "It doesn't matter anymore. I shouldn't have listened to her. I did, and this is the consequence."

"A consequence of what?" Lucy pressed, stepping closer to him.

The memory of listening to Bella plan her devious plot of making her father regret his choices played over in Edward's mind. For days before they'd driven to Las Vegas, she hadn't been able to talk about anything else. She'd wanted to show her father — and her mother, for that matter — that she wasn't theirs to control. She had even told Edward how she planned to do it. _"By causing as much damage to as many people as I possibly can. Starting with you."_

Edward had thought she was teasing him, but now he understood.

The minute she'd seen him, she'd pursued him and wouldn't let him turn her down for anything. Her pursuit had only been fueled by the discovery of his mother's identity. At that point, the only thing left to do was to find the right target. And Liam had been in the right place at the right time.

Despite all of this happening in his head, Edward could see on Lucy's face that she knew what he was doing. Even though it was true that she wouldn't have been involved in this had it not been for him, a large part of it had been out of his control.

Lucy lifted her hand to his face again, her eyes unknowingly finding his though she couldn't see him physically. "I should be afraid of you," she whispered, "but I'm not. I see now that we have a lot more in common than I thought before — if you'll excuse the expression. And maybe I shouldn't want to be anywhere near you, but I do. No matter why this happened, you saved my life. And even though you did it in a very convoluted way, it doesn't make it any less true." She stepped a little closer until she was as close as she had been before he pushed her away. "If you hadn't done what you did, I would be dead now. And maybe so would you. Don't diminish that by trying to take all the blame for this. If anyone should take most of the fault in this, it's _her_."

She wasn't wrong, and Edward knew that now.

He took her hands in his and laid them over his heart. "I'm listening," he promised. "And you're not wrong. But I can't do this. Not now. If we do anything close to what I did before, I swear I won't want to leave you ever again. I won't torture myself like that, and I can't do that to you after everything that's happened. I'll stay with you, but that's all I can do for right now. Please, Lucy."

No words of acceptance left her lips as she rose to her toes and leaned her face into his. Gently, she nudged the tip of his nose with hers, finding his lips and whispering. "First, kiss me."

Edward had nowhere else to go as he leaned in closer and kissed her more softly than he'd ever kissed anyone. Her lips were warm, and she squeezed his hands in hers as she let go to lower herself back to the floor.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" she grinned.

"No," he admitted.

"Now, I will go to bed," she conceded. "And so will you."

He wanted to argue, but she refused him the ability, stepping back slowly with him close until it was obvious where she was going. Grudgingly, Edward found another blanket for the bed, laying down with Lucy and holding her as close to him as he had the night before. He worried about what the morning would bring, but when she fell asleep in his arms, he decided it would take care of itself.

As with the day before, when Edward woke up, he found himself entangled in Lucy's arms. Her warm breath tickled the side of his face, reminding him that he hadn't shaved. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to shave, but he couldn't think about himself right now. There wasn't much time for them to hang around the hotel, but Edward couldn't bring himself to wake her just yet.

Maybe she was starting to trust him. He still couldn't say he deserved it. So much was still waiting to happen, and there was no guarantee it would all end the way he wanted it to. He wanted all of this to be over. He wanted to go home where he could tell his father how sorry he was and how much he wished he could take back every horrible thing he'd ever said. Would his father even forgive him?

"Did you sleep?"

Lucy's soft voice broke him from his thoughts, and he lowered his eyes to her face.

"A little," he admitted.

"We have to leave now, don't we?"

Unconsciously, Edward held her closer to him. "Soon."

"Can we eat breakfast, and do we have to get away from here first?"

He lifted his hand to her face. "It's probably better that we're as far away from Vegas as we can be before Siobhan does whatever she's going to do to Liam. We'll cross into Nebraska, and then I'll get you breakfast. Okay?"

She laid her hand over his and leaned close enough for her nose and lips to touch his without moving any closer. Chills shook Edward's body in a way they never had. He wanted to lean away from her, but she wouldn't let him.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Maybe I shouldn't trust you, but I do. I know you're just doing what you have to now, and when this is all over, we'll both be free. Won't we?"

"Of course," he acknowledged softly.

Edward didn't want to move, but the longer they laid here, the more dangerous it got for them to stay in one spot. Liam was still out there, and he was probably still looking for Edward.

"We have to hurry," he said, rising slowly and slipping off the bed before he turned to help her.

While Edward dressed in the bedroom, Lucy changed in the bathroom. He gathered up all their used clothes and packed them away from the clothes they'd yet to wear, and when she was ready, they left their room as close to how they'd found it as possible, getting to the lobby and checking out so they could get back on the road.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

After a short ride to the jet as it waited on the tarmac at O'Hare International Airport, Carlisle, Lucy and Jasper were all seated comfortably in their seats while the pilot who'd only just been made aware of the flight taxied down the runway to leave Chicago. The plane carrying Edward and Peter with a guard and an assistant from the District Attorney's office had left half an hour earlier. Carlisle didn't like being away from his son when he obviously needed him so much.

There was only one reason why Edward would mention Siobhan now, and there was only one good reason why any of this would involve her.

Liam.

It had been six months since Carlisle had even crossed paths with the asshole who liked to call himself Siobhan's husband. In less than twenty minutes, which was how long it had taken Carlisle to make it obvious that he still cared about Siobhan and would never stop, Liam had made more than five overt threats on Carlisle's life — and the lives of his children. Not wanting to be outdone, Carlisle had responded in kind, promising that if anything ever happened to anyone in his family, there would be few places for Liam to hide.

Of course, Siobhan had interrupted them then, demanding they stop trying to prove how powerful and stupid they were. No matter why she'd stopped them, Carlisle had seen the look in her eyes he always had when she was trying to protect him. The idea of her keeping him safe for his own sake hadn't set very well with him, and he'd unintentionally lashed out at her. She obviously hadn't taken it too hard to be so accommodating on the phone. Now that Carlisle thought about it, was Edward the reason she'd been so easy-going with him?

Carlisle loved his wife now nearly as much as he had the day he'd married her. Esme was the light of his life, and she never failed to show him how lucky he was to have her. However, Carlisle had to admit to himself that she hadn't been his first love, and despite loving her so much, Carlisle hadn't always been faithful. He didn't know if that made him a bad person. After Esme had found out about Siobhan, she'd given him a very difficult time making it up to her. Jasper and Rosalie had barely been six months old.

He wasn't an infallible man, but he tried to do his best.

The flight to Las Vegas was nearly four hours, and in that time, Carlisle tried to catch up on news around the city. There was nothing about a shooting or a murder at the hotel, and that told Carlisle that Siobhan was at least keeping her word about protecting Edward. Whatever had happened between them, Carlisle was grateful she wouldn't forsake Edward to his mistakes.

"We have to talk, Father," Jasper said from his seat across the table. "We need to talk before we land."

Carlisle glanced at Lucy to see she was listening to the music player Esme had given her. "What do you want to know?" he asked looking at his eldest son.

Jasper smirked and scoffed softly. "You need to tell me about Siobhan. Why is she even involved in this? How do you know her?"

Despite Jasper's serious tone, Carlisle smiled slightly. "I've known Siobhan a long time, Jasper. I was barely nineteen when I met her — when my father and hers attempted to broker a partnership."

"Grandfather was an antique book salesman," Jasper said with a shake of his head. "What business would he have making deals with an Irish Mob boss?"

Again, Carlisle smiled. "My father sold more than just antique books," he assured his son. "He inherited his business from his father, and he from his. The Cullens have always had deep roots in Chicago — ever since we traveled here from Scotland almost a hundred years ago. I was unable to opt out of inheriting my family's business since I was an only child when my father died. The only reason I've kept it separate from my practice is to keep my family — you, Rose, Edward and Esme — safe from people like Liam McDonnel."

Bewilderment creased Jasper's forehead. "That's not possible."

Slowly, Carlisle leaned over the table, removing the ring he still wore on his right ring finger. Before he'd been married to Esme, it had been on his left hand — a symbol of his commitment to his father. Now his commitment lay with his own family — his wife, his sons and his daughter. With as slight a movement as possible, Carlisle laid his ring on the table between him and Jasper with the crest facing away from him so Jasper would see.

"These symbols have been in our family for over a century," Carlisle explained. "My own grandfather William had his ring forged in Scotland just before my father was born in County Cork." Carlisle pointed to the first symbol at the top of his own ring: an open hand. "The hand represents faith and sincerity, which shows our loyalty to each other." Then he pointed to the second symbol: a lion. "The lion represents strength and ferocity; it shows how strong and fierce we are as a family." Finally, he pointed to the last symbol at the bottom of the ring. "The trefoil represents perpetualness. My father told me when I received my own ring that it was meant to show our survival and the continuation of our lives through our children."

Carlisle lifted the ring and handed it to Jasper. "I wanted it to stop with me," he revealed. "Even if I've had to resort to certain methods to keep Edward out of trouble the last few years, it's not something I've done with any sort of . . . willingness. I never wanted that life for my children."

Jasper took the ring, studying it intensely for almost a minute before he spoke. "Why didn't you at least tell me about this when I started working for you three years ago?" he demanded.

"For the same reason I never told your mother about Siobhan. I was trying to protect you."

"From whom?" Jasper exclaimed.

Carlisle shifted uneasily in his seat, glancing at Lucy again and then reaching to unknot his tie. He watched Jasper's expression change from angry to confused as he unbuttoned his shirt and untucked it all the way to his waist. There was no need to look at his own chest. When Jasper's eyes widened, Carlisle knew what his son was seeing. He'd had to live with the scars for more than thirty years.

"Are those . . . bullet holes?" Jasper gaped.

"I have three of them," Carlisle confirmed. He lifted his fingers to the span of hair above his left ear. "I also have a scar here. From another bullet that grazed my skull."

It didn't take much for Jasper to connect the dots with the conversation they'd just had. "Liam?" he verified.

Carlisle shrugged, buttoning his shirt and then tucking it back in before he pulled his tie back on. "Or someone he hired," he speculated. "We could never prove anything. But my father knew the truth. He called off talks with Siobhan's father the next day. I wish I could say it was good enough."

Jasper also glanced at Lucy, lowering his voice despite her apparent inability to hear them. "Liam tried to have you killed? So he could make an alliance with Siobhan's father. And now Edward's become involved in something with her. He wouldn't mention her otherwise."

A crease polluted Carlisle's forehead. "Edward mentioned her to you? When?"

"Before he came down from Lucy's room. He said — I mean, I tried to explain about Elizabeth, and I told him you loved her. He laughed and said, 'yes, the way he loved Siobhan.' It sounded stranger than I thought at the time, but if you and Siobhan knew each other before I was born, then how would Edward know about it? And what does that have to do with Aunt Elizabeth?"

Thinking back to the argument he and Edward had kept having for the last six years, Carlisle also thought of the fight they'd had three months ago when Edward had discovered the true identity of his own mother.

It wasn't something Carlisle was very proud of, especially with as much damage as it had threatened to do to his family. But it was something he could neither deny nor regret. While Carlisle loved Jasper and Rosalie about as much as any father could, Edward was special. It was unfair to think that way, but it was undeniable. Even as a child, Edward had been so exceptional. And with a mother like Elizabeth, how could he have not been?

"It has everything to do with Elizabeth," Carlisle said after a minute.

Jasper's eyebrows furrowed even further. "How?"

"You were so young that you probably don't remember. Elizabeth stayed with us just after Edward was born, and then she came home when he was eight. It wasn't because she loved her family and wanted to spend time with her parents. It was for Edward. Really, Jasper, have you never noticed how he resembles her?"

Jasper blinked several times, and Carlisle slid his ring back on his finger.

"He looks like Mother too," Jasper insisted. "How could he not? They're sisters."

"Esme's eyes are hazel, Jasper. Like yours. Rose's eyes are like mine, and she inherited as much of my rebellion as Edward. But his eyes are like Elizabeth's — almost exactly. And his hair is also like hers. With her being just as independent as me, I should've expected him to be this way."

The anger that had been in Jasper's eyes returned slowly, and with a raised eyebrow, he nearly exploded. "You cheated on my mother?"

His voice carried through the cabin of the jet — even causing Lucy to jump as she removed the earbuds from her ears. Her sharp shriek was enough to make Carlisle rise as Jasper still glared at him.

"Control your voice," Carlisle commanded.

He hurried to Lucy as she sat clutching her chest.

"It's all right," he assured her.

"What was that?" she cried.

Carlisle glanced behind him to see Jasper get up and then leave the front cabin without a word. He pushed out the breath he'd been holding in, sitting in front of Lucy as she began to breathe normally again.

"I apologize for Jasper's outburst. He'll be all right by the time we arrive in Las Vegas."

Lucy smirked and laughed softly.

"Is something funny?" Carlisle asked.

She shook her head and spoke bluntly. "Some people have no idea how to use their eyes when they actually work."

Carlisle pursed his lips. "I beg your pardon?"

Lucy lifted the small music player in her hands, showing Carlisle that it wasn't even on. He blushed for the first time in years, realizing she'd been listening the entire time.

"You were listening," he deduced, bowing his head.

"People have been shielding me from the truth all my life," she told him. "Even before my accident. My mother liked to pretend she and my father were happy, but my accident happened the night my mother decided she'd had enough of my father neglecting her for his work. She didn't think he could take care of me if she left alone, so she took me with her. I fought her the whole time, trying to do anything I could to make her go back. She wasn't looking when the truck swerved into our lane and hit us head-on. It was the last time I saw her. You want to know the last thing I said to her? I hated her, and I wished she would've left without me."

There was little emotion on Lucy's face, but her eyes filled with tears. She looked more angry than upset. Carlisle was surprised she was even telling him this, but he didn't stop her, even reaching for her hands as she sat still.

"You were a child," he insisted.

"I was mad at her," Lucy cried. "She had no right to decide that without asking me. I don't know if I would've stayed with my dad, but it was my choice."

She leaned forward in her seat holding Carlisle's hands in hers. "What do you think is going to happen to Edward?" she asked softly.

Something about the tone in her voice made him think of Elizabeth. In fact, the instant Lucy asked her question, Carlisle remembered a similar question being asked the night Elizabeth had told him he was the father of her child.

The answer now was much different.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "This isn't going to be easy. And if I might be so blunt, your involvement will either help or hinder him. I don't know which will be more likely. I wish I had a better answer."

Contemplation filled Lucy's eyes as she sat there. What was she thinking? What did it have to do with Edward?

He leaned in a little closer. "Lucy, is there something else you wish to tell me about all of this?"

Carlisle felt odd asking the girl his son had allegedly assaulted if she was still keeping things from him that might help prove Edward's innocence, but she looked so conflicted. It seemed like she was losing some of the conviction she'd had the night before. What did it mean?

A couple of minutes passed, and she leaned away from him.

"No," she said firmly. "There's nothing else."

She rose before he could say anything else, slowly making her way toward the back of the jet where the restrooms were located.

Carlisle was so confused. First, his son had spoken so sincerely before being taken away by the police. _You didn't fail. I just never listened to you. I'm listening now._ Edward was saying something so important, but what? And now, Lucy had told him about the accident that had claimed her mother's life while in the process causing her blindness. Why would she tell him that now when they were on their way to the city where Edward had apparently hurt her?

It didn't make sense. Unless . . .

He barely hesitated pulling out his phone and dialing the same way he had the previous night.

"Hello?" She sounded like she'd been asleep.

"I need you to tell me what happened with Edward. And I want the truth this time."

* * *

><p><strong>And since I feel the need to . . . yes, this means Carlisle's father was involved in Organized Crime. And yes, the name Cullen is actually Scottish, so I went that route with their family history. But no, this doesn't mean Carlisle is a closet mobster. It might be why he's so wealthy, but he's not a mob boss.<strong>

**I'm really happy with the way this story is unfolding, and thanks to everyone who's given it a go.**

**I don't own any of the descriptions for his "Cullen" ring. Anyone who's looked it up will know those are the real symbols for their family - in the movie-verse anyway.**

**So, see you next time!  
><strong>


	11. Push & Pull

**I know, I know. It's a few days late. What can I say? I was in a premature Turkey coma! I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving - for everyone who had one.**

**So, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Just a few more to go, I think.**

**And I'm surprised. No one had anything to say about Carlisle's family business? Is it just so commonplace now that everyone expected it?**

**All right, well. Read on!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Push &amp; Pull<strong>

**Back then.**

It was more difficult to wake Lucy than Edward had believed it would be as she laid in his arms for the third night in a row. But they were so close to Chicago, and in order for his plans to be played out right, certain things had to happen in the right order. For one, she couldn't have time to shower or eat, and he didn't want to contemplate how anyone else would perceive his behavior. His father would have no choice if they showed up in the early morning hours with nowhere else to go.

Instead of giving Lucy time to change, Edward gathered up the clothes they had left along with the money and other things Siobhan had given him, checking out of the hotel before he carried Lucy to the car. Pulling into the driveway in a car exactly like his father's would surely raise a few eyebrows. Edward didn't care. If it showed his father where he'd been and what he'd done, so be it. No amount of stalling the inevitable would stop this now.

Lucy went right back to sleep as soon as Edward had her buckled in the front seat. He pulled away from the front of the hotel they'd stopped at only a few hours earlier, never looking back.

The dark and the silence gave Edward more time to think than he wanted. It wasn't going to be easy convincing his father of his indiscretions, and it was going to feel wrong the whole time. Edward didn't have a choice. There was so much at stake now, and it was all his fault. If Edward hadn't gone to Las Vegas knowing Liam was there, none of this would've happened. He could've picked anyone else to antagonize, and none of them would've sent a detail of hitmen to take out an innocent family. It didn't matter how much Lucy tried to place a lot of the blame on Bella's shoulders. Edward had allowed all of this to happen.

Driving and thinking made Edward remember the first time he'd argued with his father about Elizabeth — more vigorously than any other time.

"_You're eighteen," his father told him. "You have to start thinking about your future. Elizabeth would want that."_

"_She wanted me to make my own choices," Edward argued. "I'm not graduating for another three months. Why is this so important now?"_

_His father didn't say anything for a minute, sitting behind his desk and sipping on a glass of Scotch. Edward hated sitting in here and listening to his father lay down the rules for another year. He was so close to being free to do what he wanted. Why did his father have to ruin it now?_

"_I don't want you to go off to Harvard without knowing what you're going to do there," his father insisted._

"_I'm not going to Harvard," Edward yelled. "I don't want that. Keep Jasper around for your little company meetings. Elizabeth wanted me to live _my_ life, not yours! Why can't you understand that after everything that's happened?"_

"_You're young, and you think you know what you want. I know what you need."_

"_No, you don't think I can make the right choice that you'll be happy with," Edward accused. "Please don't do this now. I have practice this afternoon."_

"_I called Mrs. Cope and told her you won't be coming," his father announced. "She won't be expecting you. You're going to spend the next three months focusing on your other studies. I entertained Elizabeth's dreams of you playing, but it's time for you to be more serious about the rest of your schoolwork. It was a hobby, nothing more."_

"_You had no right to do that," Edward exclaimed. "It wasn't just her. I wanted it too! I always wanted it. You and Mother always hated how much attention she gave me. And now I hate you!"_

_He turned and left without letting his father stop him, running away from the house angrier than he'd ever been in his life._

That night Edward had gone out drinking for the first time in months, meeting a girl at a bar in town and nearly ending up in bed with her before he tried to drive home drunker than he'd been since Christmas. He hadn't even realized the girl was in the car with him or that he wasn't paying attention to anything around him. The other car had literally come out of nowhere in his memory, and when he'd wrapped his car around a light pole, it had only taken a few minutes for him to realize what was happening. He'd broken his arm and gotten a concussion. The girl was dead. Despite the whole thing being his fault, Edward still hadn't forgiven his father for making him so angry as to kill another person — however indirectly.

Now it felt like their roles were somewhat reversed. For years, his father had lied to him about Elizabeth in a misguided attempt to protect him, and now Edward found himself in a position where he would have to lie to his father to keep him safe. It couldn't be much worse. If Liam found them before Siobhan could do anything, it would all be for nothing. Edward had to at least try to keep his family safe. Until Siobhan had everything on her end under control, it was all he could do.

It was almost one in the morning when Edward crossed the border into Illinois, and he couldn't help but feel a little backward from the way he'd left. Five days earlier, he and Bella had set out for the desert under much different circumstances, ready to do whatever they wanted without anyone to stop them. Now that he was returning, Edward had wanted it to be on completely different terms. He'd wanted to show his father he couldn't control him no matter what school he graduated from. But everything was so different now. It felt wrong.

The traffic was light until he crossed Highway 51. Despite the hour, there were enough people driving to and from the city to make Edward a little nervous. The motion of the car finally woke Lucy, and she turned her head toward the window before she spoke.

"Where are we?" she asked softly.

"Just outside Chicago," he reported.

"What time is it?"

"After two."

She exhaled quietly, laying her head against the seat and reaching for his hand. It surprised him, but they'd been in close quarters the last few days. He understood that she was accustomed to his presence. Now it was all about to end.

Her hand squeezed his gently. "Are you still sure you want to do this?"

Though Edward wasn't any more sure of his actions now than he had been at eighteen, he couldn't stop now that he was so close. "I have to."

She didn't respond after that, her breathing evening out as she relaxed again. He thought she might release his hand, but she didn't. Edward didn't move away from her. If it was all he had left, he would take it.

Before taking the main entrance into the city, Edward turned off the interstate to drive to his father's estate. Down this road, there was very little traffic especially since not many people came this way, and it was quiet and dark until he was only a few miles from the house. His phone rang then, and much to his amazement, it was Tanya.

"Tanya," he answered.

"Are you home?" she asked in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

"Of course," he lied. "Why?"

"I just got the strangest phone call from a man who wouldn't tell me his name saying he saw you in Las Vegas with a little brunette on your arm. Normally, I wouldn't care, especially after we talked at Christmas, but it sounded like he was looking for you. Edward, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

He glanced at Lucy to see her still asleep. Who could possibly be calling Tanya about him? And at nearly three in the morning. The only way anyone could've known about her was if Bella had told them. An image of James flashed through his mind, and Edward nearly pressed his foot to the brake to stop in the middle of the road.

"Edward," Tanya said. "Is everything okay?"

He hesitated, breathing deep and slowing down as he approached the driveway to his father's house.

"Edward — "

"What did this man sound like?" he asked, hoping she would remember something about his voice or the way he spoke.

"I don't know. He sounded like a man."

"Think," he pleaded. "It's important."

"Why is it so important if you're home?"

Again, Edward glanced at Lucy. "It's complicated."

She paused. "Well," she said after a minute, "his voice wasn't too deep or rough, and he spoke a little too articulated. Like a man with no college education trying to sound like he was a business student from Cal-Tech. You know, like Jasper."

Edward sighed heavily as he pulled up the tall gates of his father's house, and he sat there for a minute. "Yeah, I know. And he just said he saw me? He didn't ask where I was?"

"Not in those words," she confirmed. "It just sounded like he was looking for you. I honestly don't know why he called me in the first place. Edward, who have you been talking to? I thought we were passed this."

"We are," he insisted. "I swear. I just might've mentioned your name when someone asked me . . . something. I promise, it's not about you. And I'm sorry if they woke you."

"Oh, I was up," she said nonchalantly.

Despite himself, Edward smiled. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Katie's got me looking at all these designs for Esme's new collection. We're probably going to have them ready in a couple of weeks."

He laughed softly. "Well, that sounds good."

She giggled. "It's fun. I like it."

"I have to go, but thanks for calling."

"Of course. Just be careful, Edward."

Gently, he bit his lip. "I will. Bye."

"Bye, babe."

He turned off his phone, still kind of smiling despite sitting in front of his father's house. A deep, cleansing breath passed his lips, and Edward reached out to use his key on the gate. The guard usually here was probably up at the house, and that was momentarily beneficial. On the way up the drive, Edward thought about everything Tanya had said.

He was surprised she'd called him, but after talking and squaring things away on Christmas, it shouldn't have surprised him at all. They were much more than simply acquaintances now, but it would be a long time before they were actually friends despite their fathers working so closely together. It worried him that someone who could very well turn out to be James had called her and involved her in this.

What was James trying to do?

Edward was worried enough about his father as it was. Now it was very possible that no one he knew would be safe. There was no way Edward could protect an entire myriad of people just because they'd crossed his path over the last six years. If no one he even knew was safe, how was he supposed to keep his family out of danger?

The front lawn was lit up like a Christmas tree as he eased along the drive, and he remembered how much Esme liked for everything to be visible. She was always changing the hedges and having new flowers planted. With it being spring, she probably had an entire truck of shrubs and flora hidden somewhere on the grounds ready for her to do something with it. This was probably going to upset her so much. He hadn't been thinking about her when he'd gone to Siobhan two days earlier, but how could he have known?

She'd practically raised him, and even though they'd had their differences over the years, she was his mother in every way that counted. It was wrong that he'd blamed her for part of this when his father had been mostly responsible for it. The last time he'd really argued with her, he'd been seventeen and still going for piano lessons with Mrs. Cope at the high school. It had been the same as he argument with his father, and the result had been no better.

"_I just want you to know for sure if this is what you want to do," she cried, already having tried to persuade him to stop taking lessons._

"_This is what I want," he shouted. "How can you even think about asking me this? I've been doing this for nine years. It's all I know."_

"_That's exactly my point. You've never tried to even do anything else, and as wonderfully as you play, doing this isn't always going to be so easy. Edward, darling, please. I love you. I just want what's best for you."_

"_You and Father are exactly the same," he accused. "You both say you only want what's best, but you never stop to think about what I really want. You just don't want me to do something Elizabeth taught me to do."_

"_That's not it, and you know it," she shrieked. "You're my son. I just don't want you to struggle. I just want you to try other things. There are so many other things for you to do, and I don't want you to miss out on anything. All you ever do is practice."_

"_I had a recital two weeks ago that you didn't come to," Edward spat. "I do a lot more than _practice_!"_

_She stepped closer to him, holding onto him even as he tried to back away. Though he was only seventeen, he was already six-feet tall, and her head barely came to his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she pleaded. "I didn't mean it like that. And I tried to make it to your recital. I told you I had to work, and it couldn't be avoided."_

"_Elizabeth would've come," he spat, pulling his arms from her hands and turning to hurry upstairs._

"_Edward, please. I'm sorry!"_

He hadn't talked to her for a week after that, and she hadn't brought up the subject again. She'd cancelled five meetings with her store's manager to make his recitals after that, but even if she'd come, he'd been able to see how preoccupied she was with everything else. He knew she loved him, but now he knew why she'd always passed him over. He didn't really belong to her, and she probably kept telling herself she would make it up to him eventually.

That time had already passed, but Edward hoped it wasn't too late.

The front of the house looked more foreboding than he remembered, even when he'd been little, and he kept telling himself it was now or never.

Never was preferable to what he was about to do.

Edward didn't give Lucy a chance to wake up. He didn't get anything out of the car to take in with him. He hadn't shaved in nearly three days. He was hungry and in need of his own shower, but the important thing was that Lucy would be safe here. After a little more contemplation than he needed, Edward rose from the car and moved around to the passenger door. Lucy didn't stir as he unbuckled her and then lifted her out of the seat. She laid her head over his shoulder and made a little noise that told him she was still asleep.

Without much else, Edward moved away from the car and hurried up the steps to the front door. Though his hands were decidedly full, he felt stupid ringing the doorbell. When Riley answered the door looking disheveled and half asleep, there was no turning back.

"I need my father."

* * *

><p><strong>These Days.<strong>

"Honestly, Carlisle, I don't know what you expect me to say."

"I expect you to tell me the truth, Siobhan," he demanded. "Especially where my son is concerned. Tell me what you know."

"I told you I only saw Edward when he played Liam in the Casinos," she insisted, sounding more reluctant now than she had the morning night. "It lasted a couple of hours. There was nothing else."

A cleansing breath wasn't enough to keep Carlisle calm as he sat in the front part of the jet's cabin alone. Lucy hadn't returned from the back, and Jasper was sulking in the midway with a drink in his hand.

"You understand that if I don't know what happened, Edward could go to prison. He's only 24 years old. And I know he didn't do this — not in the way he wants me to believe. He wouldn't mention you unless you were involved."

She hesitated still, and Carlisle couldn't stop the wheels in his head turning. The last time he'd been in a situation where Siobhan was involved, he'd gotten caught in Liam's crossfire — literally. Carlisle couldn't think about something like that happening to Edward.

"I'm sorry, Carlisle," she said after a minute. "But you really have to talk to Edward if you want to know anything. It's not mine to tell you."

"Then there _is_ more," he accused. "What is going on?"

"I'm sorry," she said again, hanging up on him before he could say anything else.

More than just anger continued to flood his body. Now he was confused. What was so important that Siobhan couldn't tell him when she knew that Edward wouldn't? Did it really have something to do with Liam?

Didn't she know if it was Maggie he wouldn't hesitate to tell her to keep her daughter safe?

_I pushed all of Liam's buttons._

The fear in Edward's voice echoed in Carlisle's mind more prominently than it had in the few days since all this had started.

Carlisle knew all about pushing that son of a bitch's weak points. If there was one thing you never did, it was to highlight any of Liam's weaknesses when it came to being the head of his business or his family. Siobhan still had control over her father's business matters despite the bastard still breathing, but when Connor and Murphy had joined their companies all those years ago, Liam had automatically begun running things like he owned it.

The money, attitude and firepower had all gone to Liam's head too quickly, and while most of the McManus employees had been absorbed with his father's — and by extension, his — the few people who'd refused to bow had all conveniently disappeared. Carlisle didn't think it was possible for Siobhan to still have any of the handlers she'd had when they'd been together.

If Edward had threatened or thwarted that in any way, there was no measure to how hard of a blow Liam would deliver.

Was that what Edward had meant?

All this time, had he been trying to tell Carlisle something was going on even if he hadn't really said anything?

"Mr. Cullen, we're approaching Las Vegas."

"Tell my son," he ordered, clearing his mind as quickly as he could.

Jasper only returned to his seat next to his father when the flight attendants asked him to sit down with his seat belt on. Carlisle watched a little uneasy about the argument he knew would be coming after they got to the house, but he was more concerned with how Lucy was adjusting. Based on her breathing and the discomfort on her face, Carlisle guessed she wasn't accustomed to it.

"It helps if you don't breathe too deep," he said from across the aisle.

"Sorry," she whispered. "It's just been a long time. I haven't really been on plane since my brother and I were flying back to Texas from Los Angeles a few years ago."

He smiled and glanced at Jasper. His eldest son had the most sour look on his face. "It's all right," Carlisle assured her.

The landing was smoother than it had been the last time he was in Vegas, and he remembered it had been right after a rare rain storm than had dumped nearly six inches of water on the city. Today, it was sunny and warm — and completely out of sync with what he was in the city to do. Of course, now that his trip was personal and not business, it made sense.

Only a moment after they were still, Jasper got up without saying anything to his father or Lucy, and the flight attendant tried to smile at her employer as she directed them to the exit.

"Enjoy your stay, Mr. Cullen," she said softly.

He bowed his head appreciatively. "Thank you, Jane."

He guided Lucy to the steps then, helping her down and then arriving on the tarmac so he could walk her to the car.

After talking to Siobhan and basically getting no more information out of her than he'd been able to piece together himself, Carlisle was only certain of one thing. This was only just beginning.

The drive from the airport to the house Carlisle had on the outskirts of Las Vegas took probably thirty minutes. Jasper continued to sulk in the seat next to him, and Lucy sat quietly across the back of the limousine that carried them smoothly through the flat surface of the desert surrounding them.

Carlisle expected Peter to be at the house when they pulled up. Instead, his phone rang just as he stepped out of the car.

"Where are you?" Peter asked him, his voice calm and even upbeat.

"We've just arrived at the house. How is he?"

"They just finished processing him. I talked to one of my guards, and they let me walk with him to isolation. I've also spoken to a judge here in Clark County, and he's agreed to see me this afternoon to talk about a bail bondsman."

Carlisle watched Jasper and Lucy enter the house before he turned away to face the driveway. "What does this mean?" he asked Peter.

"The arraignment is scheduled for nine tomorrow morning," the defense attorney reported. "If I can convince the judge that Edward's safety is in jeopardy, he'll agree to the bail bondsman. I know a good one in the city, and she'll bring Edward to the house there to set him up."

"What about a trial?"

Peter hesitated, but it didn't sound like he didn't know what he was going to say. Though he said nothing, Carlisle got the impression he was holding something back.

The idea of Siobhan keeping things from him made Carlisle angry enough. Edward wasn't being forthcoming for whatever reason, and now Peter was keeping him in the dark. Carlisle had been through enough.

"Listen," he said firmly. "It doesn't matter to me what Liam McDonnel might have to do with this. And I don't give a shit about what he thinks he's capable of doing to me. But this about my son. I've known you a long time, Peter. I trust you. If you're keeping something important from me, don't. Or you can go back to Chicago, and I'll do this myself."

After half a minute of silence, Peter spoke a little less carelessly. "I apologize, Carlisle. It's just that with Edward not wanting the DA to talk to Lucy, and her being the only witness to question, it puts her in a precarious position. And now the DA here knows what Eleazar knows. They're going to ask about her, and I can only keep her from them for so long."

Carlisle huffed. "And what does that have to do with a trial for Edward?"

"Your son isn't just trying to protect her, Carlisle. He's lying about something. And until I know what he's lying about, I can't keep the DA here from deposing her."

The attorney in Carlisle kept telling him the police here had all the evidence, and they had every right to question Lucy — not only as a witness, but also as a victim. It didn't matter that she had limited senses. She'd heard everything, and that made her very valuable.

"Did you tell any of this to Edward?" Carlisle asked, turning back to his house.

"I didn't need to," Peter revealed. "I think he already knows. Like I said, he's lying about something."

"Will he be safe tonight? The guards you know will keep him from the other prisoners until the arraignment?"

"Yes, they will."

With much more determination than he'd had the night before when he'd spoken to Edward for the first time since learning about this, Carlisle started toward the house. "Come out here now," he ordered. "And bring whatever you need to take a witness' statement."

Peter didn't hesitate this time. "I'll be right there."

In the half hour or so it would take Peter to get to the house, Jasper seemed to calm down, finding his father in the library after the older man settled in there to wait.

For a few minutes after entering the room, Jasper didn't say anything, sitting in a chair across from the lounge chair where Carlisle had settled with a morning paper and coffee. The headlines were typical of a metropolis like Las Vegas. A family of three had been killed several days earlier, and the police were suspecting it was gang-related with the way each member of the family had been shot several times with automatic weapons. The style was a little conspicuous, which was why Carlisle never resorted to guns and knives to get the result he wanted. Food poisoning or accidental overdoses usually drew less unwanted attention from his experience.

"I'm still not okay with this," Jasper said suddenly. "But given the circumstances, it's probably best that I not lose any of my composure right now."

Carlisle turned the paper over to keep reading, listening but also concentrating on the way his son breathed and fidgeted.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Jasper pleaded. "Does Mother know? Rose?"

Before he could read the whole page, Carlisle put the paper away and turned to face his eldest son. "I hadn't planned on telling Edward," he admitted. "I never wanted him to know because I was afraid he would think less of Elizabeth. The exact opposite ended up happening, in spades unfortunately. And yes, your mother knows. Through complicated circumstances, I was forced to reveal it to her when Edward was five. Needless to say, she wasn't happy with what I'd done."

"And Rose? Does she know this?"

Carlisle leaned over his legs with his hands clasped in front of him. "I honestly don't know. She isn't unobservant or even ignorant. But she's never said she suspects anything."

Jasper inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looked away.

"You have every right to be angry, Jasper," Carlisle allowed. "I'm not proud of what I did, but it was out of my control after it was done. And I won't treat Edward any different than I've treated you or your sister. Edward is still your brother. He still needs you, and I need you."

"What about Siobhan?" Jasper asked while still looking away.

Carlisle didn't need any clarification given what they were discussing. And he couldn't lie. "Yes," he conceded. "When Edward and Elizabeth were in the hospital, Siobhan came to see me. She saw the resemblance in them immediately."

Jasper looked at his father, something in his eyes changing from anger to indifference. "And Grandfather's business? Would you have told me about that if none of this had happened?"

Again, Carlisle couldn't lie, especially given how complicated everything had become in the last 18 hours. "No. Until now, it's been completely hidden. Revealing it to you would've meant involving you, and I couldn't put you in front of me that way. Most of the men I deal with are accustomed to the way I do things, and seeing you with me could cause them to question your presence. You're my son, Jasper. It's my job to protect you. I swore to your mother I would when you were born, and despite the mistakes I've made, she still trusts me with your life. I won't ever put that on the line."

"And now that I know? What am I supposed to do?"

The front door opened then, and Carlisle glanced at the cracked doors of his library before looking at Jasper again.

"You're an adult, Jasper. You can make your own choices. But before you do that, think of the life you have now. Think of Alice. And ask yourself if you would willingly put her in danger. I have to ask myself that question every morning."

With that, Carlisle stood up and moved to the library doors, discovering Peter in the front foyer alone. Jasper followed him slowly.

"Will Edward have the same choice?" he asked his father.

Carlisle didn't hesitate, even though he wasn't sure it was an option anymore. "Of course."

When they both stepped into the foyer to greet Peter, Jasper only nodded and turned to go back upstairs. Carlisle watched with more confusion and concern than he'd had in six months. It wasn't just that Jasper was asking questions now, but he looked like he was contemplating doing what his father did. Yes, Jasper was a capable partner in the practice, and he brought in several of their wealthier clients. But Carlisle didn't want his son to live a double life. He honestly didn't think Jasper could handle it.

"Everything all right?" Peter asked.

Still watching Jasper, Carlisle only sighed. "Everything will be fine once this is over. Did you bring everything you need?"

Peter nodded. "I did. But I don't know how much good it will do."

Carlisle turned to face him. "And exactly why is that? She was there, and she knows something other than what she's telling me. She said something on the way here that makes me believe none of this is what it seems. Whether Edward is lying or not, I think I know why he's doing it."

Together, they moved to the staircase, and Peter glanced around the house.

"Minimal staff, huh?" he noted.

"For now. Jane and Maria should be here later this afternoon after retrieving everything from the jet. Do you need anything? I'm sure I can manage."

Peter smiled. "No, I'm good. I was just remembering the last time it was like this. Jasper had me over at New Year's, and most of the staff had the night off. I sometimes forget how often you Cullens like to pretend you're normal people."

To that, Carlisle didn't comment, but he knew it was true. Even though he tried to behave like he was just a regular guy, Carlisle realized no one in his family would ever be regular. There were days when he didn't like it — like today. But it was just the truth. Now that Edward was so deep into this mess, the fact that he would never be normal was becoming more obvious and unsettling.

They arrived on the second floor of the house silently, and Carlisle led the way to Lucy's room. The lone maid in the house was currently leaving the room with towels in her arms, and when she saw Carlisle, she bowed her head and left. He looked at Peter and then stepped into the room.

Lucy was sitting in a chair near the windows, and she turned her head to the door as Carlisle moved closer to her. His shoes clicked against the floor as he walked; the instant he was close, she turned in her chair to face him.

"Lucy," he said, pulling a chair up to sit in front of her. "Are you all right?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" she huffed. "I'm not some china doll that's going to break if you do something I don't like."

He glanced at Peter. "I apologize. It's simply within my nature to make sure people are comfortable. You've been through so much. I don't want to make it worse."

"It couldn't get much worse than me losing my brother," she clarified. She turned her head in Peter's direction. "Why are you here?"

The defense attorney laughed nervously and stepped closer. "I'm sorry for my manners, Ms. Wilson. I'm Peter Jackson," he said, reaching for her hand to take it in his. "Mr. Cullen — Well, let's just say I'm trying to keep his son from going to prison. And I think you can help me with that."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "And what makes you think that?"

Peter gestured for Carlisle to trade places with him, and reluctantly, he stood so Peter could sit down. "I'm sorry for what happened to you," he insisted. "I can't even begin to imagine what it must've been like. Edward told me what happened to the two of you. He told me he's trying to protect you from a trial, and I would normally be inclined to believe him. But there's something I don't understand."

She shook her head. "What do you not understand?"

Again, Peter glanced at Carlisle, hesitating.

Annoyed, Carlisle stepped away from the bed, leaving the room but stopping outside the door. Whether Peter was trying to defend Edward or get the truth out of Lucy, Carlisle wasn't going to be kept out of this any longer — even if it meant he had to continue listening to conversations that could potentially change the way he saw his son.

"Carlisle tells me you said something on the way here that makes him believe none of this is right," Peter said to Lucy.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied.

"I think you do," he insisted. "And I think Edward knows too. The only question I really need answered is why you haven't said anything to anyone else about what really happened."

"If he told you, then why should I have to?"

Peter laughed softly. "Because your point-of-view is quite different than his, trust me. He obviously feels responsible for what happened to you, and I understand why he wants you to be safe. But the longer this goes on without important people knowing the truth, the harder it's going to be for me to help him. And I can see that you know what that means."

She scoffed. "Was that a blind joke?"

"No," he said quickly. "And it's not just that I can see it. I was told in law school that I had an instinct about whether someone was guilty or not. My professors told me I'd be a good defense attorney if I stayed away from Pro Bono work. I can hear it in your voice, Lucy. Something's not right about this."

Carlisle stepped into the crack of the door he'd left open, and when he saw Lucy's eyes on the door, he thought for a split second that she could see him. But that wasn't possible, and he realized she was only listening to where he'd gone.

"Lucy," Peter said. "I only want to help Edward get through this, and that by extension means I want to help you too. No matter what you tell me, it's just between you and me. As an attorney, I have to keep it between us."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Well, unlike anyone else who could simply tell you what you need to hear and then use it against you, I swore an oath."

"I thought lawyers were supposed to protect the innocent and punish the guilty," she commented.

Peter nodded. "That's right. And I think that's exactly what I'm trying to do now. Because I don't think I've ever been more certain than I am now that both you and Edward are innocent in the largest part of this. Am I right?"

Lucy neither confirmed nor denied his statement, and it made Carlisle think to when Edward had come home with her so many days earlier.

Even after being in the county jail for two days, Edward had continued to ask about her. Whether she'd known he was in the house or not, Lucy had asked for Edward before anyone else, and his son had spoken to her before being taken by the Commissioner.

What had they spoken about?

Why was it so important for something like this to be kept between the two of them?

"Lucy," Peter said again. "I have some questions for you, and I need you to answer me as honestly as you can. All right?"

His questions seemed to annoy her, but she didn't say 'no'.

"How did you meet Edward?"

She didn't speak for a couple of minutes, turning her head back to the window. "My brother left me in the hotel bar so he could go to the casino. I was sitting there when Edward came up and ordered a drink."

"What did he order?"

"Vodka on the rocks," she said plainly. "He sounded stressed, like he'd already had a lot happen. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to talk to him."

"You seem like a good judge of character," Peter complimented. "Did it seem like Edward was being pressured or even forced to be there?"

She shook her head. "No. It felt more like he was trying to get away from something, but he never said what. Mike came back then, and we left the bar."

"Did it feel like he wanted you to stay?"

Lucy shrugged. "We talked for fifteen minutes. I didn't really think about him after that. Not until later."

Peter leaned closer, lowering his voice. Carlisle had to strain to hear him. "Did Isabella Swan take you from your hotel room that night?"

Again, Lucy hesitated, and Carlisle watched the expression on her face change. Gone was the stubborn, strong young woman she tried to be on the outside. Now she looked scared and worried. "Someone knocked on the door to our hotel room. My bedroom was closer, and my door was open. I guess Mike didn't hear it. I only remember opening the door and someone's big hands grabbing me. Then water splashed in my face, and I heard her. She called me a — Well, I won't repeat it, but it wasn't the only time she said it."

"Do you remember anything else about her?"

"You mean other than the fact that she was crazy? No. And she kept saying I took him away from her."

"Edward?"

Lucy nodded. "I kept trying to tell her that I didn't even know who she was talking about. She wouldn't listen. She said she was going to make sure he knew what I was and what he was, and that was when she wasn't using a knife on me."

"She tortured you?"

Without saying anything, Lucy extended her left arm and pulled off the gauze that covered her. "She kept saying this too. And then she decided to make sure I remembered it. I might not be able to see it, but it's always going to be there now."

Peter shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lucy. No one should ever have to go through anything like that." He paused and sat up straight. "Edward said he didn't know where Ms. Swan is. Do you know?"

"No, I don't. And I don't care."

The issue wasn't pressed, and Peter reached into his briefcase, pulling out a manila folder.

"I talked to Edward this morning before we left Chicago," he began. "I asked him about what happened to him while he was in Las Vegas. And he trusted me enough to tell me most of the truth. He said Ms. Swan called him while she had you with her, and she asked him to meet her. I need you to tell me if what he said was true."

"You seem to have already made up your mind," she retorted. "Why do you need me to say anything at this point?"

Peter smiled only slightly. "Because I don't think you want Edward to go to prison anymore than his father does. And that says more about you than it does him."

She hesitated, lifting her hand to her own face and rubbing her cheek. While it might've looked like she was thinking of what to say, to Carlisle, it seemed like she was listening for him. He didn't need her to protect him, no more than he'd needed Siobhan six months earlier.

Something clicked in his head, and though he wanted to hear what Lucy said, Carlisle left as quietly as he could, hurrying back to his library where he'd left the morning paper. The front page was turned away, revealing a headline at the top of the second page of the paper.

_Longtime Entrepreneur Liam McDonnel hospitalized with severe food poisoning._

Food poisoning.

Siobhan.

_You didn't fail. I just never listened to you. I'm listening now._

Edward's words hit Carlisle so hard this time he had to sit down. It all became so clear. There was really no other reason for Siobhan to be involved. If his son was listening to him _now_ when he might not have before, it was only because he understood why Carlisle had done everything in the past — to keep him safe.

That could only mean one thing.

Edward was keeping up this . . . charade because of Liam. He was trying to protect his father, as well as Lucy. That meant everything Carlisle suspected about him being innocent in this was true.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so, I'll go ahead and say it. Bella is definitely OOC in this. There. I admit it. But does that mean I don't want you to read my story? No.<strong>

**So, hopefully, I'll be back on schedule for next week. I'm working on the next chapter, and like I said, only a few more chapters to go, I think. And the balance of the chapters will start to change - if you catch my drift.**

**See you next time!  
><strong>


	12. Breaking the Vicious Cycle

**Back on schedule for the most part. Here we go with the new chapter. **

**You'll notice - if you've been keeping up - that some of this chapter has already happened. Our "timelines" will begin to overlap, and I won't be rehashing scenes that have already happened for the most part. There will be lead-in and afterward stuff, but I try not to reuse stuff. Just so we're clear.**

**There's more here about Carlisle's participation in his father's business.**

**Other than that, I hope you enjoy.**

**Now, go on! Read.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Breaking the Vicious Cycle<strong>

**Back then.**

After sitting in a holding cell in the Cook County District Courthouse Jail for two days and then being kept in an interrogation room for questioning by the Police Chief in his father's old neighborhood, Edward woke up to the soft blue light of dawn as he laid in the arms of a girl he knew would never really care about him — not even after everything that had happened. Though Edward wanted Angela to see him the way she had the night before more often than not, he knew it would never be possible.

Something else kept creeping into his conscience now that he'd been away from Lucy long enough to wonder why he was doing this. There was no way of knowing if she was still all right, but his father was still asking him questions. That had to mean she'd stuck with the plan. He'd asked his father several times about her, but as usual, his father was trying to make rules and regulations. Now that Edward realized all the times his father had been trying to keep him out of trouble, he thought it would be easier for his father to at least treat him like an adult.

So far, Edward only felt like he was sixteen again, and his father was trying to make up for lost time. He didn't want — or need — to be coddled. He kept telling himself it was just for a little while longer, but now that more than one police precinct had become involved, it was obvious to Edward that he was running out of time.

A soft buzzing caught his attention, and he turned his head to see his cell phone laying on the bedside table. With a glance in Angela's direction, Edward reached for his phone, seeing Siobhan's name and laying the phone over his ear.

"Are you all right?" she asked before he could say anything.

Was he?

He was home. He'd slept in his own bed the night before. A shower and a shave was probably supposed to make him feel better, but did it?

"I guess it depends on your perspective," he said to her. "I just spent two days in a holding cell, and I'm probably going to be taken into custody soon. Other than that, I'm just peachy."

"You don't have to be such a smart ass," she chastised. "This was your idea, remember? Brilliant as it was four days ago."

Edward didn't have a witty comeback for that, opting to remain silent as he lais there.

"I was just calling to tell you about Liam," she informed him. "He's in the hospital, and they're not expecting him to make it. But I wasn't quick enough getting him out of the house. I think he got a message to one of his partner. I took the name from his cell. James Cavelleri. Does that name sound familiar?"

After having a brief run-in with the thug himself and even discovering that the asshole had called Tanya, Edward couldn't lie. "Yes," he said, "unfortunately, I do. He's a criminal."

"He's dangerous," Siobhan warned. "And if Liam spoke to him before going to the hospital, it's possible he gave the criminal a job to do. I've got Alec and Gianna tracking him down, but he's not in the city anymore."

To that, Edward sat up. "He's not in Las Vegas anymore? For how long?"

"A day, maybe more. Like I said, they're tracking him. I told them to call me once they've got a location."

Edward leaned over, feeling sick and now knowing why James had called Tanya. It was obvious James _had_ been looking for him and wanted to know if he was in Chicago. Of course, Tanya had said 'no' because she had no idea where Edward had been. But now James was certain to know where he was, and it was only a matter of time before this blew up in Edward's face.

"Edward," Siobhan said.

"Have you talked to my father since last night?" he asked. "I know he called you. He wouldn't have allowed me to see Lucy unless he had."

She didn't say anything at first. "No," she said after a minute. "But I'm supposed to be checking into keeping this out of the papers. I have someone watching the hotel, and I know the police were there less than a day after you left. But it's amazing what you can do with a little ingenuity, so I planted a new assistant in the Crime Scene Investigators office to slow things down a bit. They only just got back their test results last night. My mole probably sent everything to your father's attorney to give him a heads-up."

"They haven't released anything to the press yet, have they?"

"Nothing important. They ran a story when the body was discovered, but due to the investigation, the police aren't releasing a statement until they have everything in order — until they have a name."

Edward scoffed, annoyed. "You mean my name?"

"I'm sorry, Edward. But I did call the Herald and the local news channels. They won't run anything until they've got all their facts straight. They don't know about Lucy yet, but it's only a matter of time."

The bed moved behind him then, and Edward looked to see Angela stirring beside him. Knowing he only had a minute, Edward spoke quickly.

"Call my father. Tell him about the newspapers. And don't worry about the police. I didn't start this, but it looks like I'll be the one to finish it."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

Absently, Edward rubbed the back of his neck. "I — Don't worry about it, okay? What happened in Vegas might not have stayed there, but it's ending there. I swear. And keep an eye on Bella. The last thing I need is one of Liam's men finding her and using her."

"I'll keep my eyes open. Be careful, Edward."

"Yeah," he scoffed again and hung up the phone.

Angela continued to wake, and Edward continued to sit there and fume. If he'd been scared before coming home, now he was pissed. He'd never regret anything in his life so much. Now, he was seriously regretting ever meeting Bella Swan. Not only had she completely turned his life upside down, but she'd also enjoyed it. Even though it wasn't right and she needed to pay for this, Edward was beginning to wish she really was dead. At least then he'd be rid of her for good.

A gentle hand touched his arm then. He didn't trust himself not to lash out, but the longer she touched him, the worse his anger got.

He pushed her away without thinking. "Please don't do that right now," he shouted. "Just don't touch me, okay?"

Angela didn't respond, scooting off the bed and proceeding to get her clothes that were folded in a chair away from the bed.

"I'm sorry," he amended. "I'm just — I'm angry, but it's not you. I just — I can't do this anymore."

He watched her get dressed, finding his own underwear and pulling them on before he moved around to her side. He stopped her before she could pull her uniform on, sitting back on the bed and holding her in front of him.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean to yell at you. And it's nothing you've done. I just can't do this anymore. I never meant for this to happen."

Angela tried to step away, but he held her in place.

"You have to know how serious this is," Edward told her. "And you have to know what I've done. I know I never cared before — or at least, never let anyone see if I did or didn't. But I tried to make your life easier so many times by walking away. I wanted us to be friends. I never wanted something like this."

She pushed on his shoulders, still trying to move away from him, and this time, Edward let her.

"I never expected anything from you," she said, pulling her uniform on and then turning to face him. "We're from two different worlds, and I'm not naive enough to think anything could come from this. Don't insult me like that."

Annoyance peaked in his mind, and Edward huffed. He scooted back over the bed then, pulling the sheets up over his legs.

"You think so little of me," he insisted. "You think I don't care about you at all. I must be a horrible person to have let something like this continue even after it became obvious that my father knew about it."

"Don't make up my mind for me," she pleaded. "That's not what I said."

She sat down in front of him, keeping her head down and fidgeting. "I know you won't ever feel the kinds of things for me I might've felt for you when I came here. And no matter what we've done, it won't become anything more than this. I knew that. It doesn't change the fact that it's happened, and it'll just keep happening."

Edward had never heard her talk like this. He wasn't sure exactly where all of it was coming from, and it was possible in his latest absence that she'd reached this conclusion on her own. He didn't know if he loved her. He didn't really know if he ever would. After everything that happened with Bella and Lucy, Edward was reexamining every decision he'd ever made since he was sixteen when his mother had died.

It was true that he'd started this . . . whatever it was with Angela less than a year after she'd come to their house, but that didn't mean he wasn't affected by it. On the contrary, Angela was the only friend he really had. Edward still wished he had handled himself differently when he met her, but the truth was he couldn't do anything to change it anymore. It was done, and he couldn't undo it no matter how much he wanted to — for her and for himself.

But one thing was already certain to him.

"We can't do this anymore," he said softly.

Though she didn't look at him, he saw a little grin begin forming in the corner of her mouth before it faded away just as quickly as it had appeared. "What are we doing?"

"You know what I mean," he pressed, hearing something or someone outside his door as a pair of hard-soled shoes scuffed the floor.

Instantly, he thought of his father, and he knew he had to watch what he said.

"All this hiding," he said instead of what he really wanted to say. Exactly how much did his father know about Angela? It suddenly bothered Edward that he couldn't say what he knew Angela needed to hear. It wasn't something he would say to anyone else because no one else really knew him the way she did.

Did his father know that? Did he care?

Edward reached for Angela's hands, watching her keep her head down and her eyes away from his. "And last night was different," he continued. She tried to pull her hands from his, becoming uncomfortable quickly. What could he say to make this easier? "You and I — We didn't just have sex last night. We made love, didn't we?"

The opposite of what he'd meant to accomplish occurred instantly as she attempted to get away. This was obviously not going to be easy.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Either the tone in his voice or the words he spoke caused her to lift her head immediately. She looked scared, and he tried to assure her, lifting his hand to her cheek.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this to you. But I was young and stupid, and I thought that if I had one person I could — " What? Know him? Love him? Listen to him?

Did he love Angela? Was it possible after everything he'd done?

The truth was he didn't know.

"I used you," he realized aloud, watching her eyes turn disappointed, "and I'm truly sorry. Angela, I — don't — "

She shook her head. "I don't need you to do this," she argued, rising from the bed to get away from him and pulling her hands from his. "I knew what I was getting myself into. And I meant what I said last night. It isn't okay what happened to you. I might not know the whole story, but I've seen enough. You should tell someone."

Confusion mixed with the annoyance and uncertainty Edward could feel swirling around his chest and his head. Did she mean this? Had he already made it impossible for her to forgive him?

"I'll bring your breakfast to you," she announced and then turned to leave without giving him a chance to stop her.

She walked across his room and got to the door before she stopped. Edward saw her blush even from where he was, and he knew she was standing in front of his father. Neither of them said anything, but she looked into Edward's room again. It looked like she wanted to warn him. Instead she walked away without uttering a word.

Edward barely waited, mustering as much resentment and anger as he could before he yelled. "I know you're out there!"

As soon as Edward saw his father standing in his doorway, he knew they weren't about to have a very nice conversation.

If Angela hadn't come back when she did, Edward knew he would've told his father everything even if it wasn't safe yet.

"Sir, Mr. Denali is here to see you."

Edward didn't have to ask who she was talking to, and neither did his father. The pleading look in his father's eyes changed to one of determination, and he looked at Edward while she still stood at the door.

"You should wake Lucy," he suggested. "She'll need breakfast along with the rest of us, and we can't keep her in the west wing forever."

For the first time since Edward had been a little kid, his father moved closer until they were closer than they'd been in years. The moment his father kissed his forehead, Edward knew he wasn't going to make it. The next time he saw his father, he was going to tell him everything if nothing else happened between now and then. And nothing would ever be the same again.

His father leaned back and looked at him again, and helplessly, Edward nodded, agreeing. He watched his father leave with Angela, waiting until they were gone and feeling sick again to the point he had to get up and rush into the bathroom.

The safety of his family be damned, but Edward knew this wasn't going to work anymore. He'd been lying to his father all of a day really, and it was too hard. There was no way he was going to make it through another minute of this. Even if Eleazar was here and asking questions, that wouldn't change anything.

How was Edward supposed to keep doing this if it got harder every time he looked at his father?

He sat in the bathroom maybe five minutes, remembering that his father had allowed him to see Lucy the night before and was now telling him to bring her to breakfast. That by itself meant he wasn't doing a very good job of this.

He wasn't going to make it.

* * *

><p><strong>These days.<strong>

Less than ten minutes passed between the time Carlisle left Peter with Lucy and then returned to find him still in the middle of talking to her. Whatever she'd said up to this point seemed to keep Peter at her full attention, but what Carlisle had to say to her was more important. He was convinced of what she and Edward were doing, and the sooner he talked to her, the better he would be able to help his son.

He knocked lightly on the door, stepping inside as he opened the door.

"I'm sorry, Peter, but I need to speak to Lucy," he announced.

Confused, Peter stood up and met Carlisle halfway. "I thought you wanted me to get her statement. I'm not finished."

"I need to speak to her now," Carlisle insisted. "And I need you to leave the room."

"Why?"

With a glance in Lucy's direction, Carlisle bowed his head and lowered his voice, speaking as close to Peter's ear as he could. "There might come a time when you're asked about me and what I do. The county prosecutor will probably bring up my involvement in you getting Lucy's statement. I have to talk to her about Siobhan and Liam, and I don't want you involved in that. Your job right now is to make sure Edward doesn't go to prison. I need to do this — now."

There was no need for Carlisle to say anymore. Peter glanced at Lucy only a second before he stepped out of the room quietly.

The moment he was gone, Carlisle moved closer to the chair to sit in front Lucy as she remained quiet.

"Lucy, I need to talk to you," he said softly.

She shifted her eyes nervously. "About what?"

"About Siobhan."

Lucy shook her head. "Who?"

Carlisle leaned closer and reached for her hands to hold them in his. "It's all right, Lucy," he whispered. "I know you saw her before Edward brought you to Chicago. And I know she helped both of you from the horrible situation in the hotel the night this happened. I should've realized it when Edward showed up in her car."

Lucy didn't say anything for a minute, and the penitent look on her face told Carlisle he was right.

"I don't usually indulge like that, but the first time I saw that car, I wanted it. Edward was furious that I was buying a car I would never let him drive, and he threw a fit when I purchased a second one for someone else. I never told him who it was for, but he obviously figured it out."

"You gave her the car he drove home?" she asked, obviously confused.

"I did," he confirmed.

"Why?"

Carlisle shrugged automatically, but then he spoke. "I never stopped caring about her," he said of Siobhan. "She was the first woman I ever loved, and even though the circumstances never lent themselves for us to be together, I reserved a special place in my life for her."

"Edward told me you almost married her."

Though he smiled, Carlisle shook his head. "It wasn't like that," he insisted. "If Edward told you about her, then he told you about what happened to me. He told you about Liam. And I know he told you not to say anything to me — for whatever reason. Lucy, I need you to tell me what happened at the hotel the night this started."

She tried to pull her hands from his, but he held on.

"It's okay," he promised. "I know you're scared. And I can see in your eyes that you're scared for Edward as well. He said something to me before they took him that I should've understood immediately. But he and I have grown so far apart that I was confused. I won't lie to you and say that I understand why he's lying about what happened, but I know why now. It's because of Liam McDonnel."

The sympathetic look on her face replaced her penitence. "She was going to kill me," Lucy said, much like she had the night before. "And she said she was going to make someone else do it if he didn't. He didn't want to. He said no at first. But she cut my hair and slashed the back of my neck. He was trying to protect me."

Carlisle leaned closer. "Lucy, do you know where Isabella Swan is?"

"No. He just said she wouldn't be able to hurt me anymore. But I — I heard that man talking about her. He said she was still alive when we left. I don't know what happened to her after that."

"A man?" he asked. "Did he say his name?"

She thought about it as she sat in front of him, speaking certainly. "Alec . . . O'Rearden."

The name sounded familiar — and for a very good reason. That was the name of Siobhan's personal guard from before she'd married Liam. How was it possible for him to still be working for her?

"There was a woman too," Lucy added. "He said her name was Gianna."

"Are you sure?" Carlisle asked.

"I'm sure. Why?"

A heavy sigh passed his lips, and Carlisle covered his face with his hand. "Alec and Gianna are part of Siobhan's personal guard. They worked for her when I was with her. I didn't think it was possible for her to still have her own employees. And Alec said Isabella was still alive when you left?"

Lucy nodded. "What does that mean?"

Carlisle didn't know if he needed to tell her exactly what it meant, but since she was beginning to be honest with him, he decided it was only fair. "It means whatever happened to her caused them to take her where no one would find her. The only problem is she could be anywhere by now. The only way I would be able to find out would be to talk to Siobhan again, but she wasn't very forthcoming the last time I spoke to her. Now I know why."

"He didn't . . . want to lie to you," Lucy admitted. "But something happened that scared him, and he said he had to."

He shook his head. "Something happened? What?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. But after he — After she shot my brother, I heard him talking to someone named Bree. In the middle of everything he said, it sounded like he said, 'You should be gone by now.' He kept asking her what was going on, and then he yelled her name."

That name sounded familiar as well, but from something more recent. He tried to remember everything he'd read in the paper this morning other than the article about Liam. The most prominent article that had caught his attention was the family of three being killed in a suspected gang-related shooting. Now that Carlisle thought about it, he realized it must have been someone working on the orders of a mob boss. And the more he listened to Lucy talk about everything she'd heard, it became more obvious that Edward had done something to stir Liam's anger.

But what?

Literally anything could antagonize a bastard like Liam McDonnel.

Siobhan had said during their first conversation the night before that Edward had beaten Liam at a poker game while she'd been there. She'd also said Isabella had been there. Losing to a younger, possibly more arrogant opponent would've definitely pissed Liam off, especially if it happened in front of Siobhan.

Was it really that simple?

The only way to know for sure would be to talk to Edward.

"Lucy," Carlisle said after a long moment of silence, "how did it seem when Edward and Siobhan were together?"

She shook her head. "What do you mean?"

How could he phrase this?

"Did they seem very comfortable with each other?"

He hated thinking it at all, but the truth was Siobhan was a grown woman who could do whatever she wanted. What worried Carlisle more was that Edward was a grown man. It made him uncomfortable thinking of the two of them that way, but why else would Edward go to her when he was in trouble?

"They were familiar with each other," Lucy shrugged. "She seemed worried about him, and he obviously trusted her. I don't know if that's what you want me to say, but I can't say much about whether they had been involved before then."

It didn't make Carlisle feel any better that his son had gone to the wife of a deranged mob boss with a tendency to use guns to get his point across. Edward must have known how disastrous it was going to turn out when Liam got involved — no matter how unintentionally.

"You've told me enough," he assured Lucy. "But I have to go somewhere, and I can't leave you alone. The safest place you can be is with me, so I'll take you with me. I'll send a maid up to help you."

"Where are we going?"

"To see a friend."

He stood up slowly, stepping away from her and leaving without really thinking of what he would do when he saw Siobhan. If she was trying to get rid of Liam because of something he'd done as a result of Edward's taunting, then Carlisle knew where she would go. It was just a matter of getting there before anything else major happened.

Peter was in the library putting everything back into his briefcase when Carlisle found him. He looked up as Carlisle entered the room.

"You have a meeting with a judge this afternoon?" Carlisle verified.

Peter nodded. "I've got an appointment with him at two."

"I have to leave the city to see someone, but it's not far. I'm taking Lucy with me, so you might want to talk to Jasper about getting a driver."

"Why?"

"Because I would like for both of you to make it back to the house in one piece, and I'm calling the jet to tell Jane and Maria to stay there for the time being. Just trust me, and Jasper can help you until we all make it back here."

Though it looked like Peter wanted to argue, he didn't, finishing packing his papers and leaving the library without a word either way. Once he was alone, Carlisle called the jet to make sure the members of his staff remained there until he arranged for a car to pick them up.

Gathering everything he needed took Carlisle only half an hour, and by then, Lucy was waiting for him in the foyer. He instructed the maid with her to take the afternoon off until she was called back in the morning. It was a strange request, but Carlisle wanted his house to be empty for the next several hours until he knew for sure that Liam was indeed out of the picture. Given the fact that the newspaper had reported him in the hospital, it was likely someone other than Siobhan was attempting to cover his business. Carlisle needed to know who that was and where they were.

"Are we ready to go?" he asked Lucy.

She said nothing as he gently took her arm and guided her out the front door. His driver Alistair was waiting by the car, and once they were all inside, the long drive to Lake Mead was underway.

"I apologize if I'm making you uncomfortable," Carlisle insisted as he and Lucy sat in the back seat of the car. "I would normally do something like this alone, but under the circumstances, I simply don't feel comfortable leaving you in the house by yourself."

Lucy still didn't speak, keeping her hands in her lap and her head down.

"You remind me of Elizabeth so much," he commented. "She always used to give me the silent treatment."

To that, Lucy spoke. "Was that before or after she lost her sight?" she asked.

"Both," he admitted. "I knew her a long time before Edward was born. She was seventeen when I met her."

"You talk about her like you loved her," Lucy persisted.

Carlisle smiled. "I did," he confessed. "I do. She was the first of only two women who ever treated me as an equal. And when she died, I — I lost a piece of myself. I won't ever get it back."

"Doesn't your wife treat you as her equal?"

At the mention of Esme, Carlisle was reminded of when he'd met her almost thirty years earlier. Despite being warm, caring and kind, Esme had almost always been the kind of woman who needed someone to take care of her. Though she was strong-minded and had a tendency to overstep her boundaries where her children were concerned, Esme wasn't the independent, self-reliant overachiever Elizabeth had been — even when she'd been seventeen.

"I love my wife," Carlisle assured Lucy. "And I would do anything for her. But I'm a man, and I've made mistakes. I'm still paying for some of them. I made the mistake of believing I could walk away from my family's business, and even now, I'm forced to keep it separate from the life I wanted for my wife and children. And I mistook my father's ambition for some sort of affirmation of his concern for me. But all he really cared about was control, and he refused to give any of his own to a man who would've only torn his company apart. That was all my father really cared about — to his dying breath." He paused, thinking about the last time he'd seen Elizabeth in the hospital. "I don't regret what happened between me and Elizabeth. And Edward is anything but a mistake. He's independent and willful like his mother, and I have always loved him for that."

Lucy turned her head toward him. "I'm sorry about your father."

It was a small comfort, but Carlisle still reached for her hand to show her he appreciated it. "I'm sorry about what's happened to you," he said softly. "And I'm very sorry about your brother."

Tears filled her eyes as she bowed her head.

The inside of the car became quiet as they drove further away from Las Vegas. With any luck, Peter and Jasper were already away from the house, and it would be safe to return there once this mess with Liam was cleared up.

Probably fifteen more minutes passed uneventfully, and they were in the middle of the desert when Lucy spoke again.

"Tell me what Edward looks like," she pleaded.

No one had ever asked Carlisle such a question, but he did so easily. "Well, he's kind of pale, if I must say so myself. I think he gets that from me. His eyes are green with gold flecks in them, the same as his mother, and his hair is on the red side of auburn, also like his mother. When he was a little boy, I used to love watching him play outside in the sun. His hair would shine so much like Elizabeth's." Carlisle paused, lost in his own thought and actually forgetting where he was for a moment. "She was beautiful. And in that respect, so is our son. She had a light inside her that never faded, even when she was in the hospital. Sometimes, when I look at Edward, even now, I see it. And I will do anything I have to do to keep him from losing that."

When Lucy didn't say anything after another minute, Carlisle looked at her and discovered a smile on her face for the first time since he'd met her. He squeezed her hand, and much to his surprise, she reciprocated.

"And if you don't mind my saying, I see that light in you too," he complimented. "Something happened to my son the night he met you, and I think if he hadn't, he wouldn't have come back to me. So, no matter how this turns out, I'll always be grateful for you, Lucy."

She continued to astonish him, laying her other hand over his. "He saved my life," she asserted. "I'll do whatever I can to help now. I promise."

Carlisle couldn't remember being this relieved and . . . happy since Edward had come out of his surgery when he'd been sixteen.

Now all he had to do was convince Siobhan to come clean about this whole thing. Maybe then, it wouldn't be so difficult to get Edward to do the same thing.

Siobhan's safe house near Las Vegas was just off Callville Bay and spanned more acres than a map could possibly show. But Carlisle had been there before. He was willing to bet that since she wouldn't tell him anything over the phone, it would be pretty damn difficult for her to lie to his face. At least, he hoped there was still enough grace between them that she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye and lie about what was happening to his son.

The gate to her safe house was solid black and rod iron — unassuming for her to be Liam's wife. Even with it meant to be a haven of sorts, Carlisle wasn't surprised to find the gate open.

"Should I pull in, sir?" Alistair asked through the partition.

"Yes," Carlisle instructed. "We're safe here."

Slowly, they eased up the drive where a black SUV was setting. Alistair parked behind it, glancing into the back at Carlisle.

"I'll just see if anyone's here," he said with a nod.

Carlisle waited while his driver got out of the car and walked around to the front door. It only took a couple of minutes, and Alistair came back with a dark-haired woman wearing dark sunglasses.

Her gait was relaxed if nothing else, and the sway of her body said enough about her status. The bright red, skin-tight shirt she wore was tucked seamlessly into her high-waist flared dress pants. Sun reflected off her olive toned skin, and shiny red lipstick glistened as she smiled knowingly.

The door to his side opened, and she spoke before he rose from the car.

"This is an unexpected surprise," she chuckled.

Carlisle also smiled, scooting out of the seat and then turning to help Lucy before he stood to face Gianna for the first time in over eight years.

"You're looking well," he complimented. "Las Vegas seems to have had a good effect of you."

She shrugged. "It's not all fun in the sun, but I like it. How's Chicago treating you?"

Carlisle laughed softly. "It's home. It's Hell, but it's home." Then he stood up a little straighter. "Is she here?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Gianna raised her eyebrow. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't already know. Come on then. Before I'm forced to take adverse action."

He didn't argue, turning to Lucy and guiding her toward the house as Gianna led the way. Alistair didn't follow, sitting back in the car without saying anything to Carlisle.

The front foyer of the house looked exactly the way he remembered, and he followed Gianna into the study to the right of the front door. While he'd expected to have to wait for Siobhan to come to him, when he saw her sitting at the ornate mahogany desk, Carlisle couldn't hide his relief.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said with the kind of certainty only she could possess.

He sat Lucy on the couch in front of the desk, remaining on his feet. "You're not supposed to lie to me," he retorted.

She didn't look at him, folding her arms over the desk in front of her. He saw a manila folder on the desk, wondering what she'd been looking at before he arrived.

"You're really _not_ supposed to be here."

Carlisle glanced at Lucy, and his mind was made up. "Neither was Edward," he persisted. "But I know he was here. It might've taken me a few days to piece everything together, but when he showed up in your car, it should've been clear to me that you'd helped him. And I know why you did it. Now I need to know it's over."

She shuffled the papers around without looking up, lifting a light blue sheet and revealing fresh ink bleeding through the thin material. "Which part?" she asked inconspicuously.

Carlisle stepped closer to the desk. "I shouldn't have to tell you that."

"Well," she said, clearing her throat, "the ink isn't even dry on the papers transferring all of my father's employees back under my control. And by this time tomorrow, all of Liam's men will be looking for new employment — or kissing the mouth of a gun."

The way she was talking could only mean one thing, and while that should've worried Carlisle more than he already was, the only thing he was concerned over was his own family.

"Siobhan," he prompted, and finally, she looked at him.

There was little, if any emotion in her eyes, and she lowered the paper in her hands back to the desk.

"I called my father to tell him," she reported. "He wasn't happy about it, but he doesn't really have a choice anymore, now does he?"

Now more determined than he had been upon leaving his home that morning, Carlisle didn't waver in his resolve. "Why is that?"

"You already know the answer to that question, Carlisle."

He glanced at Lucy again. "I want to hear you say it," he conceded.

She looked at Lucy, obvious recognition flickering through her violet blue eyes. Only half a moment passed before she spoke again.

"Liam is dead."

* * *

><p><strong>Hmm. Everything should be okay now, right? <strong>

**Now that I'm back on my schedule, we'll see you all next week.**

**I'm also getting ready to post a new story. It's different from this one, and there will be mature warnings attached, but probably not a lot of violence. So for those of you who have me on your alerts, give it a look-see. If you don't, check out my profile.**

**It might be the next couple of days, just so you know.**

**You want a hint? I'll say (/) and you say?**

**See you next time!  
><strong>


	13. The Price

**_See? I told ya._**

**_Okay, what have we got going now? Not a lot of stuff to say up here. Thanks to everyone who's put this on their alerts and favorites, and thanks to those brave enough to review. I appreciate all your thoughts, concerns and questions, and I like answering them even more._**

**_Some of this chapter might look familiar, but hopefully, it won't feel too familiar.  
><em>**

**_Now, what are you waiting for?_**

**_Ooh, and I probably never said this before, but I don't own Twilight, and I'm not Stephenie Meyer.  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>The Price<strong>

**Back then.**

Servants stared at Edward the closer he got to Lucy's room, but he didn't let that stop him. He had to talk to her about what he'd found out from Siobhan, and on top of that, his father was talking to the District Attorney right now. Whether the people who worked for his father liked it or not, Edward wasn't letting their accusing stares prevent him from doing what needed to be done.

The last maid left Lucy's room just as Edward made it there, but she said nothing to him as she bowed her head and hurried away. Lucy's room was illuminated by nothing more than sunlight shining through windows above her head as she sat in the bed alone. She seemed to know he was there, sitting up and folding her hands in front of her. Edward took a chance and closed the door after he made sure the hallway was clear.

Once that was taken care of, he moved toward the bed and sat down in front of her. She looked more rested than he felt, and he folded his arms over his chest to keep from touching her the way he wanted to.

"Are we alone?" she asked, sounding impatient.

Edward sighed softly. "Yes."

She didn't wait, reaching for his hands and scooting closer. "This is okay, right?"

It made him uncomfortable for her to trust him so much. After everything he'd done, even if he'd been coerced, she had no business feeling this way about him.

Slowly, she lifted her hand, touching his jaw and then laying her palm over his cheek. Edward shut his eyes, willing himself to stay put even though all he wanted was to run away.

"Did she call you?" Lucy asked.

He nodded. "Before I came here."

"Is it safe now?"

That was a question Edward didn't know how to answer yet.

Yes, Liam was in the hospital, and it was very possible he would be dead soon. But it still wasn't safe enough with James looking for Edward and probably concocting some crazy retaliation plan. Even with Liam out of the way, there was no way of knowing when this would all be over.

"Liam isn't in the house anymore," he said, uncertain if that would be enough. "But one of his partners is still out there. He's looking for me, and I have to see this through until I know everyone I care about is safe. Right now, that includes you."

She grinned slightly, still holding his hand. "So you care about me now?"

He leaned closer to her. "Of course I do. I promise, Lucy. Everything's going to be okay once this is over. I'm going to make sure of it."

"Even if you have to let people think you're capable of torturing and raping someone you don't know?" she clarified.

Edward laid his hand over hers. "It's not like that. I've been going against my father for a long time. They'll just think this is something like that."

"But it's not like that. You're trying to protect him. And I don't understand why you won't just tell him. If he's letting you talk to me after everything that happened, it's obvious you're not doing a good job of convincing him you're the one who did this on your own. And I told you what I would do if it started looking like this was getting out of hand."

He bowed his head, allowing her hand to touch his forehead. "Please," he whispered. "Just for a little while longer. This has to end in Las Vegas. And I can't tell my father anything until I know Liam's dead. Even with him being in the hospital, someone's trying to take over his business. Right now, I know he's going to come at my father. Just for another day or two."

Lucy lifted his head to make him look at her despite her inability to see him. "In another day or two, you could be in prison. And you don't deserve that. This isn't happening as easily as you said it would, and I'm not letting anyone think I'm some helpless blind girl. I can't do it. I told you that four days ago."

Edward squeezed her hand in both of his. "Just not here," he pleaded. "Not in this house. I can't have him know what happened in a place where I was supposed to be happy. I won't ever be the same to him. He'll never see me the way I want him to. They're probably going to take me away today anyway."

"Why?"

"The District Attorney is here. He's a friend of my father's, but he's probably here about me. I confessed, and once he knows you're here, he'll sign all the paperwork to have me taken back to Las Vegas. I can end this there. I know I can. And you'll be safe. I'll tell them what Bella did, and I'll tell them about Bree."

Lucy took her hand from his, laying both her hands over his face. "I don't like this," she reminded him. "I understand that you're trying to protect him from something you think you caused. And I understand you want this to stop where it started. But I don't like this. So many things could go wrong, and people might get hurt no matter what you do to keep them safe." She paused, caressing his skin. "All right," she conceded. "He's your father. It's your decision."

Edward wrapped his hands around her wrists gently, laying his forehead against hers. "I'll fix all of this," he whispered. "I promise."

She said nothing in response, and he leaned back.

"I came to get you for breakfast," he revealed. "My father says you should eat with us. If that's all right."

"Well, so far, I haven't been able to turn you down, so why not?"

He smiled and stood up from the bed slowly, helping her to her feet and then guiding her to the bathroom so she could change.

In the time it took Lucy to change, Edward did everything he could to steel himself against his father's insistence of his innocence. He thought of every harsh thing his father had ever said to him or done to make him move on from Elizabeth's death. He remembered every fight he and his father had ever had over her and the fact that Edward wanted to follow in her footsteps to go to music school. There was so much there, and Edward hoped it would be enough to keep him from telling his father something he wasn't ready to hear.

It wasn't just about protecting his father or his family anymore. They all thought he was reckless and uncontrollable, and right now, it was better for them to think that instead of knowing how weak he was for allowing something like this to happen. Whether Bella ever told anyone what she'd done — whether anyone ever saw her again — it didn't make this any easier. Eleazar would ensure someone came for Lucy if he found out she was here. If he didn't, maybe Edward could begin to make sense of what he was about to do.

The corridor outside Lucy's room was vacant, and Edward guided her along slowly to think of what he would say when he saw his father again.

"You're nervous," she said suddenly.

He glanced at her. "He's my father," he reiterated, as she'd done moments earlier. "I don't like lying to him — not about this, and not when I know he would know what to do to fix it."

"Then why won't you let him? It doesn't mean you have to tell him about what happened in the hotel room, but at least tell him there's a psychopath after you — and him."

"It sounds simple," he agreed. "But it isn't. I made the mistake of involving Siobhan, and now I can't let anyone else get hurt because of it."

She didn't respond, and Edward lifted her hand to his arm to pull her further along.

"Everything's going to be all right," he assured her. "Even if I have to spend time away from home. It won't be for what happened to you."

Lucy bowed her head then, conceding, and Edward helped her down the first set of steps.

"There's steps here," he said softly. "You're doing good."

"_Ay dios mio."_

The sound of Eleazar's voice startled Edward to the point he had to stop in the middle of the staircase, looking from Lucy to see his father there with the man who had the ability to sign his life away.

Lucy grasped onto his arm. "What's wrong?"

What was he supposed to do?

Up until now, no one but his family had known Lucy was here, but it was different now that Eleazar had seen her. It changed everything.

Anger simmered just beneath the surface of his mind, and as he began his descent down the stairs again, Edward swallowed as much of it as he could. Now wasn't the time for it to show, no matter how much of it became more prominent the closer he got to the bottom of the staircase.

His father moved closer, and Eleazar followed him. Without saying anything, his father reached for Lucy. Edward didn't want to let go of her with Eleazar watching, but it didn't look like his father particularly cared, pulling Lucy away from him to take her hands gently.

"How are you this morning, my dear?" he asked her.

Lucy clutched her stomach as it made its emptiness known. She blushed, and his father laughed softly.

"Well, we'll take care of that in just a moment."

Instantly, his father looked at him, and despite feeling the urge to confess immediately, having Eleazar so close made it easier to stay quiet. In fact, the longer Edward stood there, the more resolved he became about keeping everything he knew to himself.

"Your mother is probably overseeing breakfast," his father revealed. "You should take Lucy to the dining room."

Edward glanced at Eleazar, unable to move. It didn't matter if they all tried to behave like nothing had changed. Everything had changed, and Edward felt every bit of it chewing away at the parts of him he'd let fester for so long. His resentment and hatred toward his father was slowly being replaced with fear and dread, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. It just kept getting worse.

Slowly, Eleazar moved from behind his father to be beside him, and with the most scrutinizing paid of brown eyes, he stared at Edward, probably looking for a glint of overconfidence or even arrogance.

Edward knew he wouldn't find any today.

"You look different from the last time I saw you," Eleazar commented. "Older, somehow."

No denial or acknowledgment found its way out of Edward's mouth.

Eleazar stepped closer to them. "Would you mind if I spoke to your — her?"

His what? Friend? Victim?

Before Edward could figure it out, Eleazar reached for her, and his hand almost touched her. Edward stopped him before he got that closer.

"Please don't touch her," he cautioned. "You'll scared her."

Eleazar scoffed. "I'll scare her? After what you've done."

His words caused Edward to lift his eyes, and for the first time in years, Edward felt confident enough to speak more absolutely than he thought possible. "You have no idea what you're talking about. And the only time you'll know what really happened is after all this is over. You're not talking to her, and that's final."

Edward didn't wait for either of them to speak again, taking Lucy's hand in his and pulling her away toward the dining room.

Rosalie and Jasper were already laying dishes on the table, and Esme came out of the kitchen with a platter of biscuits in her hands. She smiled when she saw Edward, setting the platter down and moving to his side.

"Good morning, Darling," she greeted, hugging him tightly.

He reciprocated easily. "Morning."

She leaned back to look at him, obviously seeing something different in his eyes. She didn't say anything, stepping away to look at Lucy.

"Well, good morning, dear. How are you doing this morning?"

Lucy shrugged. "All right. Thank you."

Esme guided them to the empty chairs on the other side of the table, and Edward watched her move away as his father stepped into the dining room alone.

"Carlisle," she said. "Is everything all right?"

He looked at Edward, but he never said anything, moving to his chair and sitting down as she sat next to him silently.

All through breakfast, when Lucy asked about Elizabeth and even afterward when his father insisted he tell him everything despite the massive fight he'd started, it took every ounce of energy Edward had not to say anything to his father about anything to do with Liam.

When Peter showed up saying the Commissioner was on his way, Edward realized he was running out of time — not just to keep Lucy safe from the police but also to protect his family from the threat he knew was coming.

Would Peter understand what had happened? Would he care that Edward had to lie about seeing Siobhan and involving Liam?

Something amazing had happened when he'd told Peter nearly everything that had happened that night in the hotel. Even after starting from the beginning and remembering what he'd done at the car dealership, Edward understood finally that it wasn't because he'd wanted to cause damage to his father's plans. It wasn't because he'd hated his father. Edward realized that he'd gone to Las Vegas to show his father he wouldn't be controlled. Above everything else — the anger, hatred, and resentment — all Edward had ever wanted to live his own life.

Now he understood all his father had wanted was for him to be safe and happy and . . . whole. The only problem with his flawed logic was the fact that Edward had been safe, happy and whole before Elizabeth had died. Knowing she was his mother would've kept everything he'd believed and known close enough for him to be safe, happy and whole for the rest of his life.

Everything had changed too much.

Would he ever be whole again?

Edward's only regret after Jasper interrupted them to tell them the Commissioner was there in the house was allowing his older brother to hear the snide remark that made itself too well-known as they escaped the confines of their father's library and finally the bedroom above it.

Whether Jasper needed to know of their father's indiscretions wasn't for Edward to point out, but when it came to subjects like the two other women in Carlisle's Cullen's life, there was no way to stop the resentment from remaining prominent in Edward's mind. And even then, he couldn't divulge what he knew. It was their father's place to tell Jasper whatever he thought was necessary to understand what was happening and why.

"I have to see Lucy before they take me," Edward pressed after telling Jasper exactly that.

Thankfully, his brother didn't argue, leading the way to Lucy's room.

The steps from the door of Lucy's room to the bed were some of the hardest Edward had ever taken in eight years, especially because he could see in Esme's eyes that she knew what was about to happen. The fact that she said nothing to him would've normally made him believe she was ready to let him go. But now that he knew she was in just as much danger as anyone else in his family made Edward see that she not only loved him as her own but would also do anything to protect him from what he was getting ready to do.

Despite their differences over the years, Edward realized this was what made her his mother — in every way that counted.

"You have probably five minutes," Jasper reminded him before leaving with Esme.

Edward said nothing as he moved closer to the bed where Lucy sat. He didn't touch her, but she knew he was there.

"You're leaving," she said.

"I have to," he insisted. "If I don't, things are going to get out of hand. I didn't tell Peter about Siobhan, and I have to make sure he doesn't find out. My father will keep you here where you're safe, and if he has to leave, he'll take you with him. You can trust him."

She touched his cheek, and chills shook his body, making her laugh. Then she stopped smiling.

"Who's Elizabeth?"

He took her hand in his, gently touching the little hairs on her skin. "It's not important."

"I think it is," she nodded. "Otherwise someone would've told me when I asked the first time. Why do I remind your mother and father of her? Who is she?"

"Elizabeth died when I was sixteen," he explained, feeling his pulse increase as unwanted tears welled in his eyes. "You remind my father of her because she never let anything slow her down. And Esme isn't my mother. She's my aunt. It's a long story."

She touched his face with her other hand, caressing his cheek. "Elizabeth was your mother?" she asked softly.

Edward nodded without saying anything.

"How did she die?"

He shook his head. "I don't have time to do this," he pleaded. "If I keep them waiting for too long, they'll come up here. I have to keep you away from them."

He took both her hands in his, leaning forward on his own and kissing her gently. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

While she tried to hold him there, he stood up quickly and let go of her, stepping across the room before he spoke again. "This is going to be over soon. I know it."

He didn't give her a chance to respond, turning to leave just as swiftly as he'd arrived. There were only a handful of steps between her room and the top of the main staircase that led to the foyer. In the time it took Edward to get there, his resolve faltered.

Lucy was safe now. And even if James was still out there, there was no safer place for her than right here. The moment Edward left, it would all change.

Was this even still the right thing to do?

He made it to the top of the staircase sooner than he thought he would, and he discovered the Commissioner there with Sam and another cop. Jasper and Esme looked at him, and she barely waited, hurrying up the stairs to him and taking him in her arms in a way she hadn't since he'd been a child. Edward knew now that it was all his fault. He didn't hesitate to return her embrace, feeling more of his determination dwindle.

After nearly a minute, she leaned back and lifted her eyes to his. "I love you so much," she whispered. "I never stopped, no matter what. I know this is going to be okay. You're going to be okay, baby. I believe that. You have to believe it too. I love you," she said again. She glanced back at his father, but she didn't say anything.

She stepped around Edward to move further up the stairs while he made his way down the stairs to his father.

No matter what anyone said, this had to happen.

It was going to happen.

With any luck, it would all be over before anyone else got hurt.

Edward didn't say anything to his father or his brother, glancing at Sam and then facing the Commissioner.

"I'm ready."

* * *

><p><strong>These Days.<strong>

It wasn't until getting Siobhan off the phone and away from her desk that Carlisle was able to get any information out of her. The first thing she told him was that Liam had instructed another player in town to handle his personal business. Beyond that, the hospital had restricted his visitors to verified family members only, and Maggie was out of town. So only Siobhan had actually been in the room with her husband.

Carlisle didn't want to leave Siobhan's until he had a clearer picture of who this James Cavelleri person was and what he might try to do now that Liam was dead. He didn't want to be out in the open when someone who was apparently even more ruthless than Liam was running around like he was running a Columbian drug cartel. It wasn't the way Carlisle operated, and it didn't make a difference that he had security of his own already on its way to his house.

"Have you seen Edward?" Esme asked over the phone as he paced the carpet in Siobhan's study as she and Lucy helped Gianna with dinner.

"No," he replied gently. "But Peter saw him, and he's fine. He's being protected, and after the arraignment tomorrow, he'll be at the house."

"Has anything been decided about a trial?"

Sighing, Carlisle peered across the foyer into the dining room to see Siobhan putting down three place settings. "Not yet. But Peter talked to a judge earlier this afternoon, and they're granting his motion for a bail bondsman until a trial date can be set. I'm sure what he said to the man, but at this point, I don't really care. You're all right there, aren't you?" he asked his wife. Then he exhaled heavily. "I should've brought you with me. You shouldn't be there alone."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she shushed. "I'm fine here. Stefan has all the guards on alert, and I called Kate to keep me company."

Carlisle grinned to himself, remembering Kate Denali-Pratt from the New Year's party they'd had four months earlier. After talking to Esme for less than half an hour, the young woman had somehow convinced Esme to start a flower-catering business along with everything else she did. But Esme loved it, so Carlisle had no objection. The only thing was that Kate was Eleazar's oldest daughter and probably didn't need to be at the house with so much going on.

"Are the two of you going to stay up all night talking about flowers as you've been doing since January?" he teased.

"We just might," she shot back. "You just worry about our son. I'll be fine."

"Where's Rosalie?" he asked of their daughter.

"She and Emmett went to a free game — no, that's not what he called it. Oh, it's just a thing with the other players on his team for the next season."

"A scrimmage?" Carlisle laughed softly.

"Yes! That's what he called it. And then they were going to eat and spend the night at his place."

He laughed again. "Well, then I hope she enjoys herself. And I'll call you in the morning, all right?"

"All right," she agreed. "Take care of Edward."

"I will. I love you, Esme."

She giggled quietly. "Well, I love you too, darling. Tell Edward I'll see him soon."

"You have my word."

"Tomorrow."

Carlisle turned off his phone, stepping out of the study and into the dining room as Lucy made her way around the table with silverware.

He watched her carefully, noticing how she felt around the plates so she would know where everything went. Normally, he was sure a servant would be doing it, but he also knew that Siobhan trusted very few people, so she had only a few servants in the house — most of whom only partially knew who she was and what she did. Carlisle was sure none of her servants had even heard of Liam, and that made it easy for her to keep them on staff.

"Are you going to stare the entire time you're standing there?" Lucy asked, moved around the table slowly. "Or are you at least going to help? Surely you've set a table before."

Carlisle laughed softly, easing further into the room to her side and gently taking the silverware from her hands. "Of course I've set a table. My family might've always been wealthy, but my mother still made me do chores around the house."

Lucy stepped up behind a chair. "Take out the trash a lot?"

"Well, no, but I learned to help her whenever she needed me. Esme is a lot like her when it comes to things like that."

"What about Elizabeth?" she asked softly.

The smile on his face faded a little as he finished, and he moved around to Lucy's side. "She was more apt to play Mozart or Tchaikovsky before dinner than to help out with setting tables or bringing dishes from the kitchen."

"Mozart and Tchaikovsky?" Lucy repeated. "On what?"

"Elizabeth played piano — quite well, actually. She taught Edward for eight years, up until the week before she died."

The surprised look on her face changed slightly. "Was he good like she was?"

Carlisle chuckled. "Even better than I think anyone believed was possible." He remembered the last time he'd really heard Edward play, and the idea of never hearing him play again upset Carlisle too much for him to say aloud.

Lucy began to speak, but Siobhan stepped into the room then carrying a platter of grilled salmon.

"Dinner," she announced as Gianna followed her with a platter of steamed potatoes, tomatoes and cabbage.

They placed the two dishes on the table, and Gianna left silently as Siobhan moved to sit at the head of the table.

"Let's eat," she gestured.

Dinner was quiet as they passed the two dishes between them. Lucy managed better than Carlisle could've imagined, able to take the food handed to her and find her way around her plate without either him or Siobhan helping her.

Despite their good start earlier that day, Lucy was more tight-lipped around Siobhan. Carlisle wondered how much time the two had actually spent with each other. Surely, they had to know he was aware of enough to see they were familiar with each other. It was obvious they trusted each other to the point of knowing they were safe.

Carlisle's phone rang just as they were nearly finished eating, and he excused himself to answer it, discovering Jasper's name flash across the little screen.

"Has something happened?" he asked his eldest son as he stepped out of the dining room.

"No," Jasper said, "but it's almost dark. Are you coming back to the house tonight?"

He looked around to see light fading from the windows in the front window. "I didn't realize it was so late. Where are you?"

"Still on the Strip. We're almost finished with dinner, and Peter wants to look over the papers he still has from the clerk's office. It'll probably be another hour. Where are you?"

Carlisle didn't know if he should tell Jasper about what was going on with Siobhan and Liam, but he couldn't lie to his son. After all this mess was over, he was thinking he would tell Jasper everything necessary to keep him safe. "I came to see Siobhan," he told Jasper after half a minute. "Something important has happened, and I needed to talk to her."

To that, Jasper said nothing, changing the subject. "I talked to Alice. She had to leave for London this morning. I thought about what you said earlier, and I don't know if it's what's right, but I still want to talk about it more."

Remembering the conversation he and Jasper had before Peter had arrived at the house, Carlisle never believed he would be talking to either of his own sons about something like this. "When this is over," he stipulated.

"Of course," Jasper agreed. "I'll call you when we're on our way to the house."

"Be careful."

Jasper hung up before Carlisle, and the foyer became quiet as he stood there.

"You really do worry too much," Siobhan said as she moved up behind him.

He turned to see her there with Lucy. "When my children are involved, I don't believe that's possible. If it was Maggie, wouldn't you be worried?"

She glanced at Lucy, pursing her lips slightly. "Of course. I only meant that there's worrying, and then there's suffocating. You have to let your children grow up, Carlisle. You can't always treat them like children."

He stood up taller, only towering over her by a few inches. "I know how to treat my children," he argued defensively.

Siobhan wasn't affected by his change in demeanor. "And that's why you've got a son in a holding cell tonight while the other one is now jostling to help you with your father's legacy. Where's your daughter this time of night?"

"That's not as important as where yours is," he spat.

"Both of you stop," Lucy pleaded. "This isn't going to help. And if anyone knows anything about parents screwing their kids up, I do. If you're still arguing about this five years from now, where will your children be if you're both dead? My parents could never stop arguing about who could take care of me better. First, my mother, and then my father, and where are they? They never got passed anything, and nothing ever got any better."

She stopped abruptly, lowering her eyes the way she had on the plane, and Carlisle couldn't help but think she was realizing something like she had then.

What was she seeing that he couldn't?

"You should probably get going," Siobhan said, taking a step back from him.

Carlisle glanced at Lucy, knowing it was getting late, and they needed to return to the house before too much more time passed. "You should be careful," he told her. "Especially now."

She gave him a small smile. "I have my own security for a very good reason," she assured him. "And now that I've called my father to tell him what's happened, several of his guards have now sworn to work for me. If any of Liam McDonnel's men attempt to make any moves on me, they won't be able to breathe fresh oxygen before they get the chance. I ordered the main estate locked down, and they're holding there until further notice. You should consider doing the same thing at your house in Chicago."

None of the men Carlisle worked with knew where his estate was, and he wasn't worried about the safety of his family in that manner. He hadn't liked leaving Esme alone only because it wasn't preferable. This wasn't supposed to be dangerous, and despite the obvious implications of Liam's death, there was really no reason to worry about anyone hurting Esme or any of his children — well, except for Edward, of course.

Carlisle only acknowledged Siobhan with a nod, turning to help Lucy and leaving without saying anything else to Siobhan. Though he was leaving, he felt he would see her again very soon.

Alistair was ready as soon as Carlisle stepped outside with Lucy, and once they were settled in the car and on their way back to his house, he called the head of his private security to make sure they were in place for the night.

"Is everything secure?" he asked the man on the other end.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen, sir."

"Keep your eyes on everything for the night. With any luck, we'll be leaving soon, and I don't want anything to happen while we're here."

"Yes, sir," he acknowledged. "I understand."

"And tell me if you notice anyone watching the house. There are a few players in the area jockeying for power, and the last thing I need is a turf war."

"Everything is normal right now, sir."

"Good. We'll be there in half an hour."

He shut off his phone, glancing at Lucy and then settling in for the short ride.

"Is everything going to be okay now?" she asked softly.

"I hope so," he replied honestly.

She didn't say anything else.

The grounds around the house were all lit up by the time they pulled through the gate, and a guard updated Carlisle, telling him a full check of the house and the grounds had come back normal. Alistair parked and helped Carlisle and Lucy into the house, and Jasper called just as they stepped inside, saying he and Peter were on their way from the Strip. Carlisle notified the head of his security, and once that was taken care of, he showed Lucy upstairs where she could get ready for bed.

The inside of his bedroom felt uncomfortably empty the moment he settled into a big armchair away from the bed with the papers Aro had given him the night before. He wanted to see something in them that proved Edward hadn't wanted to do any of this, but it wasn't easy. The police reports were unnaturally biased, and none of the crime scene photos gave any unique perspective — even with respect to where the victim had been shot.

Carlisle was beginning to think he would never hear the truth from his son, and it saddened to realize they'd grown so far apart that Edward no longer trusted him. If all this had started because of Elizabeth, finding out about her should've at least compelled Edward to understand why it was kept from him. Clearly, now that he was being charged with so many crimes he didn't commit, something he'd planned had gone wrong.

"I should've told him about her sooner," he whispered to himself as he sat there.

"Do you always talk to yourself when you think you're alone?"

Lucy's voice startled him, and he lifted his head to see her standing by the door alone. She was dressed in a pair of blue silk pajamas that belonged to Esme, but they fit her just as well.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, putting away the papers and rising slowly.

"I can't sleep," she confessed. "Which should be easy for me, but . . ."

He hurried to her. "No, it's all right. Please," he said, taking her hand and guiding her into the room.

Carlisle helped her onto the bed and pulled the blankets up to cover her. She laid back with her eyes somehow meeting his, and as they sat there, she spoke softly.

"You really love her, don't you?" she asked.

For a moment, he was confused. "Who?"

"Her," she said vaguely. "Siobhan."

"Oh," he nodded. "Yes. I do. Or, well, I did a very long time ago. She and I have recently agreed it's best not to see each other on a more than professional basis."

"But this isn't professional," Lucy commented. "This is about your son. And she helped him when you couldn't. You have to at least be grateful she didn't turn him away."

Gently, Carlisle took one of Lucy's hands in his. "Everything Siobhan does is for Siobhan," he insisted. "If Edward had called her and hadn't first attacked Liam — however minimally — she probably would've said 'thanks, but no thanks.' It's how she was after I was shot. I needed her, and she wasn't there. And saying her father forbid her from doing it is just an excuse." He paused, re-gathering his thoughts. "But I am grateful she helped him. I only wish he'd trusted me enough to come to me."

She laid her other hand over his. "If it helps, I think he went into shock right after. Like I said, something happened that scared him, and he wasn't thinking straight. It took probably twenty minutes before he could really talk, and then it took a little longer before he could move again without someone pushing him. And I didn't help by yelling at him."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize," he pleaded. "This happened to you too. And I can't express enough how much I regret keeping so many things from my son that he needed to know. You've helped him, Lucy. I know it seems a little strange, but it's true. Until this happened, I thought I'd lost him. And now I know I'll fight with everything I have until he's back where he belongs."

Lucy smiled while holding his hand in both of hers, and Carlisle laid his other hand over hers. "He's helped me too," she revealed.

Carlisle leaned forward after half a minute, kissing her forehead and whispering. "I'll be close by if you need anything."

He released her hands gently, rising and stepping around the bed to sit back in his chair. He watched her sink into the bed, and when she closed her eyes, he leaned back into the cushion, keeping his eyes on her.

The next thing Carlisle knew, his phone was ringing, waking him up.

He opened his eyes, having not remembered falling asleep, and when he saw the window illuminated by light through the blinds, he looked around for his phone.

Realizing it was nearly nine a.m. and that Peter was calling him, he sat up and turned the phone on.

"Is everything all right?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, we're just about to see the judge. Did I wake you?"

Carlisle cleared his throat, looking at the bed and seeing Lucy gone. "Yes. But I'm awake now. Is Edward all right?"

"He's fine. Might've actually gotten some sleep last night. We're at the courthouse now, and we're gonna be in the judge's office so he can set up the bail bondsman. The DA over here is not happy about any of it, but thankfully, our judge doesn't really care. I'll call when I've got everything ready with my girl here, and then we'll be on our way."

"Be careful," Carlisle pleaded.

Peter chuckled. "Always am."

Carlisle turned off his phone then, noticing the folder in the floor and wondering when he'd fallen asleep — in the chair, no less.

After a quick stop through the bathroom, Carlisle changed his clothes and returned downstairs, looking for Lucy and Jasper and hearing them talking in the dining room.

"I actually applied to UTA right out of high school," Jasper said softly. "They have a good Law program. If I hadn't gotten my acceptance letter to Cornell, I would've gone. The heat and tornadoes were preferable to the snow storms and not having any heat in the middle of February."

"Try being a volunteer when all the refugees came from Louisiana and Mississippi after Katrina," Lucy commented.

Carlisle stepped into the dining room then, noticing that his son was sitting next to Lucy at the dining table with a few platters of food in front of them.

"What are we having this morning?" he asked.

Jasper looked at him. "Not much with only two staff members," he shrugged. "But we managed with Maria and Jane. There's enough if you're hungry."

Carlisle bowed his head, sitting across from them and taking his own plate to fill it with the eggs, bacon and sausage along with a couple of pancakes. "Peter just called me," he announced. "He's at the courthouse with Edward. They should be here soon."

Neither Jasper nor Lucy replied, and soon, silence filled the air between them all.

The tension was tenuous as they ate, and Carlisle could think of nothing immediate that would allow him to ease it. The way Jasper kept his eyes down and on his plate told Carlisle he was still upset about everything he'd learned the day before, and it was nearly impossible to explain without making his oldest son angrier than he already was.

Lucy excused herself early, thanking Jasper for breakfast and leaving the dining room slowly.

"Thank you for helping her," Carlisle said sincerely.

For another minute, Jasper didn't respond

Maria came out of the kitchen then, taking one the empty platters and leaving without saying anything to either of them.

"Jasper, I know you're not happy with what I did, but — "

"Not happy?" he repeated. "You think I'm not happy? This is far beyond me not being happy! You cheated on my mother! And even after all of that, you kept all of this from me and Rosalie."

"I was trying to protect you," Carlisle argued.

"Like you're trying to protect Edward? Or how grandfather was trying to protect you when you got shot?"

Carlisle could only sigh as Jasper stood up from the table and threw his napkin down.

"All of this is happening because of you — because of your mistakes and the inability to fix them. Whether it was for my protection or not, you should've told me about my grandfather leaving you an organized crime ring. And now my brother is in danger of being shanked in a fucking prison if he's found guilty of assaulting a woman he brought to our house to keep her safe."

Indignation exploded through Carlisle's chest. "You're not capable of understanding why I did any of the things I've done. And I know my father's own indiscretions caused me to keep his life separate from mine. I never wanted it. But I didn't have a choice. I wanted all of you to have a choice. I wanted you all to be safe to go wherever you wanted."

"And Edward didn't go to Juilliard because you couldn't protect him there?" Jasper spat. "Is that it? You know, I only mentioned applying to Cornell, and the next thing I knew, I was moved to the front of the line to get accepted before I could even pack to leave for Texas. So Edward and I could go wherever we wanted as long as it was where you wanted?"

"Of course not," Carlisle shouted. "I only wanted what was best for you."

Jasper scoffed. "Well, you did a brilliant job of it. And Edward will be _lucky_ if he makes it through this alive."

He didn't give Carlisle a chance to argue, leaving the room to follow Lucy.

Carlisle sat at the dining table alone until his phone rang again, and he stood up to answer it, moving from the dining room to his study.

"This is Carlisle."

"We're on our way to the house now," Peter answered before anything else.

Everything stopped.

"He's all right?"

Peter chuckled softly. "He's fine. Like I said, my guys took care of him. My girl's gonna get him set up for the terms of his house arrest deal, and we're making plans for a trial next week."

"Who is this woman?" he asked of who Peter was obviously referring to as the bail bondsman — or woman, rather.

"Her name's Charlotte Combs. She's the best in Las Vegas, and she has the best equipment. And she's completely independent. We can trust her, Carlisle."

Carlisle let out the deep breath he'd inhaled. "Well, at least this part of it is over. Be careful, and I'll see you when you get here."

"Half an hour," Peter promised.

He turned off his phone less than a second later, pacing as soon as it was quiet.

If a trial was still in the near future, then it was still possible to set everything right. Carlisle still had hope that he could do something to fix this without losing touch with both his sons.

Thirty minutes seemed to take forever to pass, but Carlisle forced himself not to look at his clock, not even when the front door opened.

He turned as soon as he heard it, hurrying into the foyer as Peter stepped into the house with Edward and a petite dark-blond-haired woman dressed in black slacks and a crisp white, long-sleeved dress shirt. Her hair was cropped short, and the slight blush in her cheeks gave her skin a noticeably translucent appearance.

Edward looked rested despite the growth of stubble on his jaw, and Peter nudged him further into the room as Carlisle met them.

"Home at last," Peter grinned. "Carlisle, please allow me to introduce you to Charlotte Combs. Charlotte, this is Carlisle Cullen — quite possibly the nicest, most compassionate high-profile attorney you'll ever meet."

The smile that crossed her face was more genuine than it probably should've been as she stepped forward. "Mr. Cullen, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She reached for his hand, and he met her halfway.

"Ms. Combs. Thank you for this."

She glanced at Peter and smiled a little wider. "Well, I'm always happy to serve people who genuinely need my help, and after Peter explained the situation, I knew I had to do everything I could to make sure Edward is safe."

Carlisle smiled appreciatively, releasing her hand and stepping in front of Edward. "This is just the beginning," he insisted. "And we're going to face it together. I promise."

Edward also glanced at Peter, bowing his head. "I believe you," he said sincerely.

There was no hesitance in Carlisle's next moves as he eased closer to his son and took him in his arms. For the first time in years, Edward responded in kind, holding him tighter than ever had — even before Elizabeth had died.

"I'm sorry," Edward whispered. "If I only came to you — "

"It's all right," Carlisle swore, leaning back and lifting his hands to his son's face. "It's all going to be all right. If you believe that, then I will too."

A real smile crossed Edward's face, and he nodded. "Okay."

For nearly a minute, neither of them moved.

Then Edward released his father and looked around. "Where's — " he glanced at Peter and Charlotte, pausing. "Where's Mother?"

Carlisle also glanced at Peter. "She's still in Chicago. With Rosalie."

The relieved look in Edward's eyes faded slowly. "She's not here?" he asked, obviously confused.

A curious grin turned Carlisle's lips. "Well, of course, she's not here. It's not safe for her here. And Stefan has all the guards on alert."

Dread and something resembling fear filled his son's eyes. He turned to Peter instantly. "I need your phone. Now."

Peter didn't hesitate, handing it over immediately.

Edward didn't say anything, dialing frantically and bringing the phone to his ear. Seconds passed, and he became frustrated. He cursed under his breath, dialing again and then turning to face Carlisle. An instance of hope flickered across his face as he spoke.

"Rose, where are you?" he asked. "It's important. Just tell me where you are. And you're all right? Are you and Emmett still in the city? Because I need you to go to the house. Now." Edward groaned, and Carlisle moved closer as he spoke again. "Please don't argue with me. Just do it. And call me back."

Edward turned the phone off, huffing loudly.

"What's happening?" Carlisle demanded, turning Edward to face him again. "What was that about?"

"You left her in Chicago," he complained. "You left her alone!"

"Our house is the safest there is," Carlisle argued. "Why is it so upsetting for her to — "

"Liam! That's why. And if you're here like this now, then you talked to Siobhan. Didn't she tell you about James?"

Carlisle noticed that Jasper and Lucy were coming down the stairs, and he only paid them half a minute's attention before he looked at Edward again. "How do you know James?" he asked.

"That isn't as important as the fact that he was working with Liam," Edward exclaimed. "And now you've left my sister and her mother unprotected with a psychopath on the loose. Why didn't you bring them with you!"

"Calm down," Carlisle ordered. "We left so quickly yesterday that I didn't have the time to collect your sister, and Esme had no business being in this city. No one would have the audacity to make a move on the estate. It's a fortress."

Edward huffed, turning his attention to Jasper. "Where's Alice?"

"She's in London. I was just talking to her."

"Call her back, and tell her she needs to stay in a populated place. They won't be able to hurt her if she does that."

"Who?" Jasper demanded.

Edward looked at his father. "The men Liam sent to Chicago looking for me."

Carlisle understood instantly, taking out his phone and dialing Esme quickly.

"She's not answering," Edward griped.

"What's going on?" Peter asked, still standing near the door with Charlotte.

After the fifth ring and her voice mail picking up, Carlisle immediately dialed Sam at the police precinct.

"Uley."

"Sam, it's Carlisle. I need you to take a team to my house and make sure my wife is all right. I can't explain right now, but it's urgent. Tell the guard at the gate I sent you. And call me back when you're there."

A pause Carlisle couldn't afford followed, and he feared Sam would say it wasn't his place to check up on Esme. But to his relief, Sam agreed.

"I'll get out there right now. Give me ten minutes."

Carlisle turned off his phone, facing Edward and Jasper but unable to say anything else.

"Can someone please explain what's happening?" Peter asked, interrupting again.

There were no words to explain this without admitting the truth. So Carlisle told him. "I may have just done exactly what Liam wanted with his dying breath."

Peter's eyebrows met his hairline. "And exactly what is that?"

"Made myself vulnerable again."

"By leaving Esme and Rosalie in Chicago? How?"

Carlisle turned to him, only holding his eyes for a moment before he bowed his head. Thankfully, it didn't take much longer than that for Peter to understand.

"Jesus Christ," he hissed.

Minutes passed silently as they waited, and Lucy moved from the staircase, finding Edward and holding his hand in hers without giving anyone else any indication how she knew he needed her.

Carlisle's phone rang first, and when he saw it was Sam, he answered it as the anticipation of a disaster settled into his gut. "Sam."

"The guard at the gate is dead, Carlisle," the police chief reported. "And I'm having trouble keeping your daughter on the outside of it for her safety."

Cold chills slid up Carlisle's spine, and he turned away from everyone else. "Tell her I told her to stay back. Is Emmett with her?"

"He's the big guy?"

Swallowing, Carlisle nodded. "Yes."

"Hang on a minute."

Sixty seconds ticked by impatiently, and then Sam spoke again.

"There's a van in the driveway. _Emerald Isle Imports._ But there aren't plants back here. I can see an entire detail of automatic weapons and ammunition. I'm moving inside."

Getting all of this on a play-by-play was unnerving.

Why hadn't Esme answered the phone?

Was she hurt?

Where was she?

The answer to all these questions came when Sam spoke again.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

Heart pounding and breath increasing, Carlisle clutched his phone in his sweaty palm. "What is it, Sam?"

Instead of telling Carlisle what he was seeing, Sam instead said, "Carlisle, you need to come back to Chicago. Now."

Sam hung up then, and Carlisle turned off his phone, not moving, not breathing.

_What have I done?_

* * *

><p><em><strong>What do we think? I know what I'm thinking, but I'd like to hear it from you.<strong>_

_**After this, there's only probably one more chapter and then an epilogue. It doesn't feel like it should be over, but I really feel like it is.**_

_**I should be able to post the new chapter next week. Keep your fingers crossed.**_

_**And if any of you are into it, head on over to my profile and check out my new story. ;-).  
><strong>_

_**Later.**  
><em>


	14. The Twist at the End

**Okay, so it's a little late, but I swear I was working on it. And since it's almost finished, the next chapter might be up a little earlier than planned. Keep your fingers crossed.**

**It might feel like torture, but I'll see you at the bottom for more notes.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Twist at the End.<strong>

"_I'll call you in the morning, all right?" Carlisle said to his wife_

_Esme laughed softly as she moved around the living room turning on lamps while she waited for Kate to come back from the kitchen. "All right," she agreed. "Take care of Edward."_

"_I will. I love you, Esme."_

_She giggled. He was always so attentive. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how much he held on his shoulders, but when things affected his children, it was harder to see where two halves of his life met. "Well, I love you, darling," she affirmed. "Tell Edward I'll see him soon."_

"_You have my word."_

_Esme paused in the foyer, remembering that phrase and knowing he always meant it. "Tomorrow," she stipulated._

_In an instant, he was gone, and she turned off the phone just as the front doorbell rang._

_Riley came to answer it, but Esme met him halfway._

"_Why don't you check on Kate in the kitchen?" she insisted, nudging him off to the back of the house._

_He didn't argue with her, of course, and Esme turned to the door to open it._

_On the other side of the door stood a tall man in a jump suit with _Emerald Isle Imports _on the lapel. His long blond hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and oddly enough, he was wearing a diamond studded ring on his right ring finger._

"_Mrs. Esme Cullen?" he asked._

_He smiled at her with a gleaming white smile, and his blue eyes twinkled in the dim lights in the yard._

"_Yes?"_

"_I have a delivery for you."_

_It was strange. She didn't remember ordering anything to be delivered so late. But she'd been doing so much lately._

_How could she forget a delivery?_

"_Oh, of course. I must have forgotten. Please," she gestured for him to come inside._

"_If you'll just sign here," he said handing her the clipboard in his hands._

_Graciously, she took the pen and signed her name, giving it back to him and lifting her eyes to his. _

_He looked familiar for some reason, but she couldn't put her finger on why._

_He took the clipboard, still smiling as he raised his hand and slung it across her face, knocking her down.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Everything was blurry and distorted as he sat on the bottom step holding his head and feeling his heart thudding inside his chest. He'd become detached from the world around him, and nothing made sense anymore. It wasn't just because of something he'd done or said. Now it was because of something he'd been too busy to notice.<p>

How could he have not seen this?

" . . . the last time. Even if Siobhan has control of her father's men now, there's still too many that will come after us."

Edward's voice kept piercing the thick bubble he'd found himself inside, but nothing was comprehensible.

"Alice said she'll stay in London for now. But I'm going to have to explain this to her when she comes back."

"First we need to make sure you're alive for her to come back to," Edward retorted. "We might need to call Demetri and Heidi so they can help Peter, and you need to get back to Chicago with him right now."

A set of hands much smaller than his son's gathered around his own hands, and he looked up to see a pair of unfocused eyes settled on his forehead.

Time realigned him with the place he was in now, and he reminded himself that he was more than three and a half hours away from his home — from his wife.

"You're all right," the face in front of him said squeezing his hands.

He shook his head, and the small hands touched his face.

"You're going to be all right."

"We can't sit here like this," Edward announced, his voice coming closer. "We have too much to do."

The face he was looking into turned away, and less than a second later, he was looking into his son's pleading eyes.

"You need to get up," Edward told him. "You have to go back home. You can't just sit here."

Suddenly, he heard his own voice. "I don't know how I could let this happen."

Edward lifted his hands to his face. "That's not important right now. Please, you need to get up."

"I — I can't leave you here," he argued.

Edward lowered his hands to his arms and pulled him up. "I don't need you here. You need to go home. Jasper will go with you, and Peter will stay here with me. Dad, you need to go."

It had been too long since Edward had called him 'Dad.' Something in his voice shook away the disorientation, and in an instant, he was on his feet.

Edward turned back to Peter. "We have to go back to the judge," he commanded. "And Lucy's going to come with us. Jasper will go back to Chicago, and . . . We just can't sit here."

Watching Edward hand out orders like he'd been doing it his entire life made Carlisle see something he never wanted to see, and it was then that he knew he had to show some kind of control over himself.

"I thought you didn't want Lucy to talk to the police," Peter said. "What's changed since yesterday?"

"I really have to answer that? It's possible that a thug under Liam's orders has gone to my house and killed my mother. I can't stay in this city anymore. And neither can Lucy. And we have to call Siobhan to find out if Gianna and Alec have found James."

"He won't still be in Chicago?" Charlotte asked from Peter's side.

Edward shook his head. "He's finished whatever he went there to do, especially if Sam was able to get into the house clean. We just need to talk to the judge and maybe the District Attorney too. You know what happened now. And I'll find out where Bella is, just please, we can't sit here."

Peter looked at Charlotte, but she only shrugged.

It was obvious no one knew what to do first.

Finally, as though a switch had been flipped, Carlisle moved forward. "Peter, you need to help my son. And if he says it's time to tell the truth, it's your job to make sure he's protected. I have to go back to Chicago with Jasper, and we have to finish this if that's what it takes to make sure my family is still safe. Edward is right. We can't stay here any longer."

The definitive sound of Carlisle's voice seemed to make Peter's indecision fade, and with a nod, he gave his answer.

"What are we going to do about Siobhan?" Jasper asked.

"I'll talk to her before we see the judge," Edward declared. "I should've paid attention when she told me about James, and I could've stopped this three days ago. You need to get back to Chicago — today."

Carlisle didn't pause to verify anything, taking out his phone again and calling the jet.

It only took ten minutes to pack whatever clothes had been brought in anticipation of remaining in the city for the duration of a trial. With some clothes already in the house, there wasn't much to pack.

Jasper was reluctant to leave with his father, but Carlisle knew it wasn't because of leaving Edward alone. It was obvious to Carlisle that his oldest son trusted Peter.

No. Jasper was reluctant because he knew something bad had happened in their home. Carlisle could see the fear and anguish on pinched his face and in his slacked body language. Jasper knew it was possible for nearly everyone in their house to be dead — including his mother. It took every ounce of strength Carlisle had to spare to keep from losing his composure now.

Edward was more stoic than Carlisle had ever seen him — even after Elizabeth's death. There was more resolve and willingness to fight than had been on his face before, and even if Carlisle knew it wasn't ideal for him to stay behind, it was the way it had to be.

"What's important now is that we make sure the people we love are safe," Edward said as they all left the house with Jane and Maria behind them. "Alice, Emmett and Rose are safe, but we have to make sure Mom is — "

The word refused to leave his mouth, and Carlisle faced him as confidently as he could.

"Everything's going to be all right," he swore. "I'll go back to Chicago, and you'll finish things here. We'll get through this. I know."

There was no retort or snide remark as a reply. Edward glanced at Jasper, staring a few seconds before he looked at his father and simply nodded.

Carlisle turned his attention to Peter as he stood with Charlotte. "Keep me updated," he requested. "Even if you think it's nothing. After you talk to the judge and after you talk to Siobhan. You need to be my eyes and ears now. And I'll do the same once we're back in Chicago."

Peter glanced at Charlotte, obviously uncomfortable with his new responsibilities, but he didn't refuse. He bowed his head and folded his arms over his chest. "I'll do what I can," he promised. "And I hope Esme is okay."

A small smile tried to creep across Carlisle, but he stopped it, lifting the mask he needed to hide his emotions instead. "Thank you. Now go."

There was little else that followed as Peter gestured for Edward and Lucy to come with him. They followed without hesitating, and Edward only glanced at his father before he helped Lucy inside the SUV waiting. He climbed in himself, and Carlisle closed the door before stepping back with Jasper to watch them leave the long driveway. Silence filled the air for only a minute before Jasper spoke again.

"He's know what he's doing, doesn't he?"

It was a question of confirmation rather than fear of inexperience. Carlisle was uncertain whether he should substantiate Jasper's claim, but one thing was very certain.

"Yes," he said aloud. "He does. But he didn't learn it from me. We don't have time to ponder this. If you want answers, they'll have to wait."

Carlisle didn't give Jasper any time to argue, moving back to the car and gesturing for Jane and Maria to get in before he looked at his son. After a moment's hesitation, Jasper climbed into the car, and Carlisle followed.

Alistair needed no instruction, pulling down the long drive to get away from the house. It was barely 10:30 in the morning. Carlisle hoped Peter would be able to get in and see the judge after such a short amount of time passing since the arraignment.

For now though, he had other things to worry about.

* * *

><p>The inside of Charlotte's SUV was quiet the entire way into town, and it was at that point Edward decided it was time to know the name of the facility where he would find Bella. For him to find out, he had to call Siobhan before they got to the judge's office. Peter had already called back to arrange a new meeting, and right now, Edward needed leverage.<p>

He needed Bella.

Did he really expect Bella to tell the truth? No. But the only other witness to what had happened would more than likely paint a much nastier picture than he could, and even if the goal had been to keep Lucy safe, it was obvious to Edward now that she wanted to help.

"How is this supposed to work exactly again?" Lucy asked from Edward's side. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know what really happened."

He held her hands in his as securely as he ever had, but none of their agreement meant anything now that he'd decided to tell the judge the truth — or rather, have Lucy tell him the truth. "Things are different now," he said softly despite Peter and Charlotte being so close. It didn't matter what they heard now, but he wanted to keep Lucy calm. "Bella can't hurt you, and even after they bring her out of the place she's in now, no one will ever hurt you again. This started a long time before we met, but it has to end now. Once it's over, you can go wherever you want. I'll take you myself if you want."

Lucy lifted her hand slowly, touching his face. "And even if I want this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Edward laid his hand over hers, glancing at Peter as he watched. "I know I shouldn't," Lucy continued. "But none of this was your fault. Well, none of what happened to me was your fault. And even if a small amount of it wouldn't have happened if you weren't there, you saved my life. If we're going tell this judge the truth, then that's what I'm going to tell him."

Edward couldn't hold her gaze even though she couldn't see him, and he put his head down in an effort to keep his own emotions in check.

"She's right," Peter said from the front passenger seat.

Edward looked at him.

"You did save her life. If you hadn't done what you did, even the stuff that you hated doing, you'd both be dead. And I don't usually defend dead men," he said with a smile. "I'm here to help you, Edward. It's gonna be okay. I know it."

Silence filled the inside of the SUV for another minute, and Edward pulled Lucy into his arms to hold her against him. He laid his cheek over her head, still looking at Peter and nodding.

The Clark County Regional Justice Center was, ironically enough, also half an hour from the house, and in that time, Edward called Siobhan to find out the name of the facility holding Bella.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked him. "Liam's men are going to be looking everywhere for her. I honestly don't trust the police in this city to not screw it up if they decide to move her — or God forbid, question her."

"I know what I'm doing," Edward assured her. "I could've done this five days ago, and I have to start fixing my mistakes. It'll be okay."

She hesitated only half a minute, sighing softly. "Well, try not to let it mislead you, but it's call Crestpark Rehabilitation and Restoration. It's outside the city near Calico Basin. Liam bribed one of the directors about four years ago when he took over a local mob ring here in the city. He had some idiot with dread locks put there for safe-keeping, which is probably when he wrangled James Cavelleri into his own operation."

Something she said jostled Edward's memory. "Four years ago?"

"Yeah. Apparently, he tried to buy his way out of Liam's good graces by raising money through a high-stakes poker game, but he got beat by some kid from the sub — urbs."

She stopped on her last word.

"Edward, you didn't — "

"I don't have time for this right now," he interrupted. "I have to get this finished and get home. Las Vegas just turned into a sand trap, and I can't afford to get stuck here."

Siobhan exhaled lightly. "Right. Of course. I hope Esme is all right."

Edward didn't want to say anything else, but he couldn't stop himself. "So do I. Thanks."

He turned off his phone, looking at Peter and nodding.

Though he had no reason to be nervous considering what he was about to do, Edward became a little apprehensive as Charlotte pulled up to the Justice building and got out. He wasn't worried about the judge not believing him. The man would have no choice, especially after talking to Lucy, but it was still risky. Edward didn't like taking this much risk over a situation he couldn't control anymore.

"Everything's going to be okay," Peter said as they all walked inside. "I have both your statements, and we've checked with the hotel about everything. I gave him only what I needed for a bail bondsman this morning, but now that we're giving him all the information we have, he'll have to look at it. He'll probably call the DA to discuss it with her, but don't worry. You want to keep Lucy safe, so that's what you're gonna do. Okay?"

A deep breath and nod were all Edward offered in response, guiding Lucy and following Peter and Charlotte through the marble corridors toward their destination.

Judge Marcus Volterra was finishing with his own clerk when Peter knocked on his door, and it looked like he wasn't happy about this meeting despite agreeing to it.

"Come in, Mr. Jackson," he gestured, his voice deep and authoritative.

Peter glanced at Edward. "Wait out here with Lucy. I'll talk to him first, and then you will."

Edward didn't argue, sitting on a bench outside the office with Lucy and watching Peter step inside with Charlotte. The door closed, and he sat more uncomfortably than he had since being in the hospital with Elizabeth. Lucy held his hand while they waited, and half an hour passed amazingly quick before the door opened again.

"Edward," Charlotte said stepping out. "You can bring her in now."

There were several files covering the top of the judge's desk as Edward stepped inside with Lucy, and as the man looked at him, Edward realized these were the files for his case.

"Mr. Cullen," Judge Volterra said taking off the glasses perched on his nose. "Please have a seat. And Ms. Wilson."

Slowly, Edward helped Lucy to sit, taking the seat next to her.

"Now, it's my understanding that you're back in my office to recant your previous statement and the plea your attorney entered this morning. Is this true?"

Edward glanced at Lucy and Peter. "Yes, sir."

The judge closed a file in front of him. "Would you like to tell me why, Mr. Cullen?"

A deep sigh passed Edward's lips. "I didn't tell you or my attorney everything that happened the night Lucy was assaulted."

"Why is that?" Judge Volterra asked, his voice unemotional if nothing else.

"I was trying to protect my family, but it got out of hand. My father is on his way home now, hoping that my mother hasn't been killed at the hands of a man sent by one of his . . . rivals."

The unemotional expression changed in an instant, replaced by confusion and incredulity. "Excuse me?"

Edward inhaled deeply. "I apologize if I'm not making sense. I came to Las Vegas thinking I was rebelling against my father. I thought Bella — Isabella Swan would help me do that. But I was wrong. And I paid for it." He paused, looking at Lucy as she sat silently. "The night Lucy was assaulted wasn't the first night I saw her. I met her the night before in the hotel bar, and we talked for probably ten minutes before her brother came to take her back to their room. I never thought I would see her again."

The judge put his hand up, halting Edward suddenly. "How is this relevant to the plea or the possibility of a trial?"

Peter spoke before Edward. "It's relevant because Isabella Swan is a mentally unstable woman. She saw Ms. Wilson with Mr. Cullen and took it upon herself to kidnap Ms. Wilson as retribution."

Judge Volterra leaned over his desk. "Do you have proof of this?"

"Actually, I do," Lucy said from Edward's side.

The judge looked at her. "Please forgive me, young lady. I meant no disrespect."

"It's okay," she nodded.

The room fell quiet, a measure of concern, fear and urgency hovering above the three separate parties. Edward couldn't read the judge's expression now, but Lucy lifted her hand to his arm and spoke again more confidently.

"The woman who kidnapped me, Isabella Swan, blamed me for taking Edward from her. She held me in a hotel room for nearly 18 hours. She tortured and beat me, yelling that I made him leave her, and it didn't matter what I said. I tried to tell her I didn't know him. She wouldn't listen. She kept saying the worst was yet to come. I didn't know what she meant — not until I heard Edward again. They were talking about my brother. I heard him yell, but he never spoke. I think they had him gagged."

Lucy paused, inhaling deeply and exhaling raggedly.

Edward could already see tears in her eyes, and he moved his hands to hers without waiting. She grasped onto his hands immediately. It wasn't hard to miss the way the judge watched them carefully.

"It all happened so fast," Lucy continued. "I remember her saying he had to choose. And she kept calling him a whore. She told him to pick me or my brother, but he wouldn't."

"Who are you talking about, young lady?"

"Edward," she clarified. "I yelled as soon as she took the cloth from my mouth. She cut my hair off and cut the back of my neck. She said he told her he didn't know me. He said I was nobody, and she was going to make him prove it. She told him to rape me."

The judge's eyebrows instantly met his hairline. "I beg your pardon?"

Lucy pursed her lips, pressing them into a line. "She told him to rape me. But he said no. And then she attacked me. He was trying to save me. She was going to kill me. She killed my brother! If Edward hadn't done what he did, I would be dead. I just wanted you to know that before you made your decision."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she turned her face away.

"Judge," Peter said. "I have all the corroborating evidence for Ms. Wilson's statement, and I also have everything to prove that Isabella Swan took her from her room after midnight the night before Edward saw her again."

Judge Volterra sighed heavily, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. "And what are you expecting me to do with this new information?"

Peter glanced at Charlotte only a split second before he looked at Edward. "I know we've already been through the arraignment process, but I was hoping it would be possible to have all the charges dropped."

The judge opened his mouth to speak, but Peter beat him to it.

"Under the condition that we produce Ms. Swan for the police to take custody of her. And with Mr. Cullen pleading guilty to kidnapping a car dealership employee the day before the assault on Ms. Wilson. It carries probation and community service, and Mr. Cullen will give a full disclosure of everything that happened. The police in Chicago said they would agree if he gave up his accomplice. In this case, you get yourself the real criminal — the instigator and the gun-wielding woman responsible for this entire mess."

Judge Volterra looked at Edward and Lucy, lowering his eyes to their hands and raising his eyebrow before he looked at Peter. "That woman was sexually assaulted as well," he informed them. "She had ligature marks on her wrists and ankles consistent with being tied up. She wouldn't press charges for some unknown reason, but if he's confessing, there's more than probation and community service attached to that. Jail time, counselor."

Peter looked at Edward, raising his eyebrows, clearly looking for help.

Edward scoffed softly, smirking for what felt like the first time in days. "Bella tied her to the bed. All I did was have sex with her. And she liked it."

"Edward," Peter admonished.

"I don't have time for this," he griped, releasing Lucy's hand and rising from his chair. "Bella was crazy. She had no claim on me, and she used me. She wanted to cause as much as damage in as short a period of time as she possibly could, starting with me. I'm not saying I didn't do anything wrong. But I pissed off the wrong man, and he made it his death wish to put a hit on my father. I know you probably don't want to admit that there are Mob bosses in the city, but you'd be blind if you didn't at least look at what you have in front of you and know that I had to make one choice. It was me or her," he said pointing to Lucy.

He pulled in as calming breath as possible, lifting his eyes to the judge. "I couldn't make that choice. It was my fault she was involved, and I wasn't going to let any more happen because I was stupid enough to walk away from Bella when she tried to push a prostitute on me."

"Mr. Cullen, I understand you're worried about your family. It doesn't change the fact that you tried to circumvent the law to do it. And I can see this situation with Ms. Wilson is delicate enough, but — "

"You have no idea about my family," Edward accused. "You don't understand anything, and I don't care what you think about my actions. I was dealing with a man who would sooner slit my throat and cut off my balls than deal with the fact that I beat him at a fucking poker game. So I flirted with his wife and his daughter. So what? He was so insecure that he had the same man who could've killed my mother kill an innocent family I tried to help — because I asked his wife to help me. Do you understand what I'm saying? He had them killed! Because of me. I wasn't going to let him do that to my own family. I couldn't!"

Edward stopped again, clenching his fists and his jaws for several seconds before he spoke again more calmly. "Please. I thought my father was trying to make me do something I never wanted to do. He was trying to protect me from people like the man I pissed off. I was just trying to protect him. I didn't realize any of this until I got home. I didn't see it until I had to watch him swear that I was innocent and couldn't have possibly done something so horrible. I was going to tell him before they took me, but I didn't get a chance. I need that chance. I have to tell him he didn't fail me. I failed him, and I have to start fixing everything I did wrong."

Precious seconds passed.

They'd already been here over an hour, and even though Edward knew his father was still on the jet, every minute that passed was a minute he didn't have to wait. He was more afraid that something horrible had happened to Esme, and he couldn't even think of what might have happened to anyone else who might have been in the house when James got there.

Knowing James, he would've killed everyone in the house who got in his way.

"Judge," Peter said after a minute, "all I'm asking — all _we're_ asking is that you look at the files I've given you and refile your decision. The evidence I gave you proves that Edward was not only coerced but also beaten himself. He was a victim. We also have proof that Isabella Swan didn't act alone in kidnapping Ms. Wilson. Security cameras at the Bellagio hotel identified Mr. Jacob Black meeting her in the hotel lobby and taking Ms. Wilson from her room. They're your perpetrators, Judge Volterra." He paused and gestured to Edward and Lucy. "These are your victims. Michael Newton is a victim. The woman who shot him should be brought to justice. The man who helped her should answer for his actions."

Judge Volterra raised his hand at Peter's last word. "You make a compelling argument, Mr. Jackson. But grandstanding and impassioned pleas won't change the facts. I won't change my decision based on anything you've said."

Edward clenched his jaws again, wanting to keep arguing, but the judge spoke again before he could.

"What I will do is look over your evidence and determine if it merits dropping the charges to a lesser offense. If you really want your client to do community service with probation, you better hope your files deem him worthy. You can all wait outside while I do my reading."

Peter moved first, stepping around to Edward's side and pulling him from the judge's desk. Charlotte helped Lucy, and they all reluctantly stepped out into the hallway to wait.

Never is all his life could Edward remember being so worried, and he paced the marble floor outside the judge's office in a way he didn't think was possible. He wasn't concerned over himself. If he went to jail even for a little while, it wouldn't matter if everything he'd done in the last few days had led to the woman who raised him being killed by a man like James Cavelleri. Nothing was worth that.

Peter called Carlisle with an update, but after that it was quiet.

Time seemed to speed up to that point that Edward felt like he couldn't sit here and wait for a man who didn't know him to decide whether or not this was serious enough to do something no one had done in eight years. No one had listened to Edward since Elizabeth had died, and he needed this judge to listen to him now.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Peter said even as Edward continued to pace.

Edward couldn't respond.

What could he say?

Charlotte took Lucy to the ladies' room while they waited, and the door to the judge's office opened as they returned. The judge's clerk stepped into the corridor instantly.

"He'll see you now."

They filed into the office slowly. Edward helped Lucy to a chair, opting to stay on his feet. Nearly another hour and a half had passed, and it was possible his father's jet was now close to landing.

Would his father already know if Esme was alive by now?

Peter and Charlotte sat quietly, and once they were all settled, Judge Volterra spoke while still looking at the papers in front of him.

"Mr. Cullen, I've examined all the evidence your attorney has given me," he said, his monotone voice setting Edward's nerves on edge. "And while it is a compelling argument, as well exceptionally thorough, I'm not sure it's enough to warrant a reversal in the charges against you."

Edward huffed, folding his arms over his chest tightly and bracing himself for what was next.

"However," the judge amended, lifting his eyes to Edward, "I also think most of your actions the last day you were in the city were done under duress. The legal system isn't perfect. I understand this. But we have it for a very good reason. That you chose to ignore that doesn't sit very comfortably with me, though I can understand why you chose another avenue to help you. And at this time, I'm inclined to believe that you were only doing what you were taught to do — no matter how disadvantageous it was for you."

The judge paused, again looking at his papers. "I'm under the impression that your attorney wouldn't offer to produce Ms. Swan unless he knew where she was. Is this the case?"

Edward glanced at Peter, silent until the judge's attention was on him again. "Yes, it is," Edward nodded. "I know where she is."

"And with all the evidence against her, you're willing to turn her over to the police here in Las Vegas in exchange for a reduced sentence for the crimes you committed of your own free will?"

Calmly, Edward unfolded his arms and slipped his hands into his pockets, bowing his head penitently. "Yes, sir."

Judge Volterra looked at Peter. "Counselor, you've done an outstanding job amassing all this evidence in such a short period of time," he complimented. "I'm not certain I want to know how you were able to do it, but it's proven beneficial to your client."

Edward didn't want to breathe for fear it would change the way his luck was turning.

"I'm signing papers to have your charges reduced, and I've spoken to the District Attorney about having the sentence carried out without a trial. She isn't . . . happy about the outcome, but I've promised her some closure with the arrest of Ms. Swan and Mr. Black. Kidnapping and sexual assault carry heavy penalties where the victim was taken out of the state they were residing in at the time of their abduction, but in this case — with the woman refusing to bring charges against you — I'm willing to give you the minimum sentence required since you've confessed to them in place of another larger offense."

Peter spoke before Edward could. "Judge Volterra?"

"You wanted probation and community service, counselor," the judge reminded him. "You've got it. There will be stipulations, of course, but I'll have a courier deliver the orders to the District Attorney in Chicago so that he might be able to oversee Mr. Cullen's community service. Probation is two and a half years."

Neither Peter nor Edward spoke for a couple of minutes.

"What does that mean?" Lucy asked.

Judge Volterra put all his papers down, folding his hands over his desk. "Young lady, that means you are a very lucky individual. Something about you allowed Mr. Cullen to decide that your life was worth sparing. It also means he'll have to stay in Chicago until his probation is over, unless the District Attorney approves any out-of-state traveling. Now, I can't guarantee what activities will be approved for his community service, but I can only hope he uses his time as wisely as he possibly can." The judge paused again, turning his eyes to Peter. "Wouldn't you agree, counselor?"

Peter glanced at Charlotte and then cleared his throat gently. "Yes, sir."

For the first time since arriving, Edward watched a smile slip across the judge's face as he nodded.

"Good. The District Attorney is Chicago should have the papers by tomorrow morning. You have until then to return to Chicago."

No one moved as the pendulum clock on the wall ticked loudly.

Judge Volterra actually laughed. "It's all right, gentlemen. You can go now."

Peter didn't wait, helping Charlotte to her feet and then gesturing for Edward to help Lucy. "Thank you for your time, Judge Volterra," he nodded.

"Keep an eye on your client, Mr. Jackson. He's going to need you."

Peter grinned. "Yes, sir."

They stepped out of the judge's office slowly, and as soon as the door closed, Charlotte spoke.

"I don't think I've ever seen that man smile," she commented as they walked down the corridor to the stairs that would lead them outside.

"Looks like Edward shell-shocked him," Peter quipped.

"We have to hurry," Edward pleaded. "I have to get home. Now," he demanded as his phone rang from his pocket loudly.

He stopped in the middle of the corridor, taking out his phone and seeing that it was Jasper calling him.

"Jasper," he answered bringing the phone to his ear. "What's going on?"

"We just got to the house. Father's inside now. They're keeping the rest of us at the gate. It doesn't look good."

"Is Sam there with you, or is he inside?"

For half a minute, Jasper didn't say anything. Then he said, "I see him coming out the front door with the coroner. They're bringing out one of the bodies now."

"Bodies? How many are there?"

"Edward," Jasper chided. "They're saying nearly everyone who was in the house is dead. Whoever this James character had with him killed anyone they could find."

"But Esme?"

"I don't know yet," he apologized. "Like I said, we just got here. What's happening there?"

Edward glanced around, seeing Peter and Lucy in front of him as Charlotte stepped out of the way. "It's going to be okay. I'm coming home."

"Then get here now," Jasper pleaded.

Edward's phone beeped with another call, and he sat down on one of the benches against the wall. "We're on our way. Call me."

"I will."

Jasper ended the call, and Edward held his phone up, seeing Siobhan's name and number before he answered her call.

"Siobhan."

"I thought you might want to know," she said. "Alec and Gianna found James Cavelleri."

"Where?"

"Here in Las Vegas. He came back on a private jet this morning — Liam's private jet. I honestly didn't expect him to be that stupid."

"And where is he now?" Edward demanded.

"A warehouse north of the Strip. I'm on my way there now."

In an instant, Edward switched gears. If James was in the city now, he wanted to talk to the bastard responsible for killing Bree and quite possibly Esme and everyone who'd been in the house last night. But before he could respond, Siobhan stopped him.

"I'll take care of this, Edward," she assured him. "You've got other problems, and you need to go home. I know what this man did, and I'll make sure he understands what's about to happen to him. I know what I'm doing. You need to worry about your family. I'll call you."

With that, she hung up, and Edward turned off his phone, leaning over with his head in his hands.

"Ed," Peter said. "We gotta go."

Edward looked at him, more conflicted than he'd been in days.

Lucy sat next to him and took his hands in hers. "Everything's going to be okay," she said softly. "But you need to decide what's more important."

There was no question where Edward needed to be, and he looked at Peter again. "Right." He stood up with Lucy. "We have to hurry."

No argument came from Peter or Charlotte as they all continued out of the building. They needed to find the earliest flight to Chicago they could — now.

* * *

><p>The driveway was too long, and though Carlisle wasn't out of shape by any means, he was still out of breath when he made it to the front door. The guards and police at the gate be damned, his wife was somewhere in this godforsaken house, and no one was keeping him out of it. Sam was around here somewhere, and it was important for Carlisle to find him. Wherever Sam was, Esme would be with him.<p>

He hung in the doorway while he caught his breath, smelling blood and burnt flesh in the air, and his heart sank the moment he saw plants knocked over and furniture broken all over the floor. There had been a struggle right here in the foyer, and instead of being here where he was needed, he'd been hundreds of miles away trying to coddle his adult son despite his obvious desire to be left alone.

A loud bang from upstairs caused Carlisle to stand up straight, and immediately, he saw Sam at the top of the stairs alone. Seconds later, a gurney with a body covered by a sheet followed him as two men in jumpsuits pushed it slowly.

"Carlisle," Sam said. "You shouldn't be in here yet. We're still processing the scene."

"Where's my wife?" Carlisle demanded.

The small glance Sam gave the gurney sent Carlisle into a lurch and he rushed the stairs quicker than he should have.

Sam stopped him before he could make it, holding him still. "Calm down, Carlisle," the tall, well-built man demanded. "It's complicated, but — "

Carlisle reached out and grabbed the sheet covering the body as it passed him, gasping and then exhaling heavily as the slacken, blood-stained face of his personal assistant Victoria appeared before him. He felt uneasy on his feet instantly, releasing the sheet and allowing the men pushing the gurney to continue on down the stairs.

"Where's my wife?" Carlisle pleaded, watching the gurney and then standing to face Sam again.

Sam glanced around, obviously contemplating before he sighed softly. "Whoever came here meant to kill as many people as they possibly could. I don't know what you told your staff, but it seems that only a fraction of them were in the house last night. Altogether, there were only four victims."

Relief filled Carlisle's chest for an instant that only a few people died in this mess, but he tried to count, and after seeing Victoria dead, he could only guess who the other victims had been.

"The man at the gate was the first one they killed," Sam continued, moving up the stairs and gesturing for Carlisle to follow him. "They shot him after he opened the gate. Whoever let them in was assaulted in the front here, and the struggle down there proves enough of that."

"Who let them in?" Carlisle asked frantically.

Sam stopped at the first landing, sighing again. "It was Esme."

He didn't give Carlisle time to argue, moving up to the east wing of the house. The corridor was empty as they moved through it and showed no evidence that anything horrible had happened inside the house.

"The cook," Sam continued, "was found in the stairwell that leads there from the west wing. She was shot a couple of times, point blank. We think she was trying to get away, but we're not sure."

"Chelsea," Carlisle said automatically.

Sam said nothing to that as he continued down the hall.

A uniformed police officer walked passed them from further down the hall, and he nodded at them as he kept walking.

"We found the butler here," Sam said absently, gesturing to a large smudge of red on the honey-colored wood floor and the eggshell white walls where an ornate table was smashed into four separate pieces. "They stabbed him. Like the cook, it looked like he was trying to get away."

"He shouldn't have been here," Carlisle stated.

Sam looked at him, his thick eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"He shouldn't have been in this part of the house. Unless he had a very good reason."

Still, Sam said nothing.

Down the hall, near the door to Carlisle's bedroom, another pair of men in jump suits came out with another gurney. Sam tried to stop him, but it was pointless.

Carlisle hurried quicker than he had before, now on level ground, and he got to the men before they could get far.

"Carlisle!" Sam yelled only a second before he pulled the sheet back.

Again, he gasped, staring down at Eleazar's eldest daughter Kate as she laid there dead. Her cornsilk hair was matted with blood, and a deep gash punctured her neck.

Large, strong hands pulled him back, and the men covered the body back up as Sam spoke.

"Please stay calm," Sam demanded.

For a minute, Carlisle struggled to catch his breath. But then he counted.

He stepped out of Sam's hands and turned to face him. "Where's Esme?" he demanded.

With a heavy sigh, Sam glanced down the hall where the men had come from, and Carlisle didn't pause to ask. He simply turned and walked away.

He heard camera flashes and hushed voices, and he stopped just outside the door, praying he could hear Esme's voice. But he didn't.

His heart hammered inside his chest, and his breath hung in his throat as he turned the corner to look into the room.

Sunlight streamed into the room more brightly and brilliantly than he'd ever seen, illuminating the one thing he needed to see as Angela sat on the bed holding a cloth to Esme's face. Blood was smeared over her left shoulder, and her cheek was bruised, but she was alive.

His feet carried him on their own, easing him into the room until he was only a few feet from her. She looked at him, a single, thick tear slipping down her face, and in an instant, he took her hands in his to pull her up. He latched onto her immediately, and she held him with the same intensity.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed, pressing his hand to the back of her head and leaning back to look at her. "You're all right."

She nodded. "I'm all right. Edward?"

Carlisle lifted his other hand to her bruised cheek. "He's all right. Peter's with him. He'll be home soon. I know it. What's important is that you're all right."

He held her closer, and she wrapped her hands around his shoulders.

"I was so scared," she cried. "I'm so stupid — I let him into our home."

Carlisle shushed her, laying his cheek over her head. "It's over now. You're okay."

"If Kate hadn't heard me struggling in the foyer, he would've killed me," she exclaimed. "She attacked him, and she told me to run. So I did. Carlisle, why? Why was he here?"

He wanted to tell her the truth. Aside from Edward, she was the only one who knew about his obligations. Would she be able to handle the truth?

"It was Liam," he said, deciding to keep her accusations away from Edward. "He sent them here because of me. Just like he sent those people after me before I met you. I'm sorry, Esme. But I swear this won't happen again."

"How?" she asked softly. "How can you do that?"

Carlisle sucked in a deep breath. "Liam is dead."

She pushed him back, her face shocked and disapproving.

"I didn't," he swore. "But I know he's dead. I'm going to keep you safe from now on. I promise."

Esme huffed softly, grasping onto his shoulders as they stood there.

Finally, after standing there for several minutes, Carlisle remembered that Angela was still sitting on the bed. He stepped away from Esme slowly, sitting on the bed with Angela as she sat there with a few bruises and a cut on her forehead.

"I can only imagine why you're up here with my wife," he said softly.

"Kate — I mean, Ms. Pratt told me to keep her safe," Angela stammered. "Mr. Cullen —"

He lifted his hands to her face. "It's all right, Angela," he assured her. "Thank you. My wife is alive because of you."

Angela bowed her head then, and Carlisle looked at Esme.

"Jasper and Rosalie are outside," he revealed. He looked at Sam as the police chief stood at the door. "Is it safe for them to come inside?"

"We still haven't cleared the scene," Sam sighed. "The three of you need to stay here. Please."

With that, he left, and Carlisle reached for Esme's hand to hold it in his as they waited.

"Where's Edward?" Angela asked hesitantly.

Carlisle glanced at her, rising from the bed and taking out his phone. He didn't know what was going on outside, but Edward needed to know this.

* * *

><p>Waiting for a flight was excruciating, but Edward thought it was better than continuing to go to Siobhan for help. After talking to Jasper and knowing his father was in their house making sure Esme was still alive, all Edward could do was pace and wait. It seemed like hours had passed, but he knew they hadn't.<p>

"We should all eat something before we get on the flight," Peter said as they waited near the departure gate.

"I'll find everyone some food," Charlotte said as she rose slowly.

"I'm not hungry," Edward insisted.

She stepped away without acknowledging him, and Lucy stepped next to him to take his hands in hers.

"You have to stop doing that," she chastised though she smiled.

He laid his hand over hers. "And what makes you think I'm really not hungry?" he asked, smiling himself.

She shrugged. "Intuition."

His phone rang before he could reply, and he was hesitant despite needing the phone to ring. Lucy released him, and he took out his phone to see that it was his father. He turned away from Lucy and Peter, answering instantly.

"Jasper said you went inside the house," Edward answered instead of the usual greeting. "Please — "

"Edward," his father said softly. "It's all right. Your mother's safe."

A heavy breath passed Edward's lips, and for a minute, he was light-headed. A support beam was his closest place to lean, and he pressed his back to it. "She's really okay?"

His father sighed over the phone. "She is. But James still attacked. He still killed four people in our house. I won't say over the phone exactly what this means, but — "

"I talked to Siobhan," Edward breathed. "She found him at a warehouse here in Las Vegas. She's taking care of him. She said she would call me."

There was a pause, and it seemed like his father was processing what he was hearing. "We can trust her," he said after a minute.

Edward inhaled and exhaled again, sliding down the beam to sit in the floor. "I agree," he whispered.

"Are you on your way?"

"Our flight is in an hour."

Another sigh. "Good. We'll see you when you get here."

"Is this really over now?" Edward asked — pleaded.

"I think so," his father concluded.

"I'm — "

"I know. I am too. Just hurry home."

Edward nodded despite being on the phone. "I will."

He turned off his phone, still sitting there and unsure if he could get back up.

She was okay. Somehow, everything was going to be okay.

Lucy slowly made her way to him, reaching for him, and he took her hand in his to help her as she knelt in front of him.

"Everything is okay?" she asked.

He leaned forward, and he kissed her more on his own than he had yet, able to do it for the first time in days with no regard to who was watching or listening. She responded immediately, wrapping her hands around his arms and sitting back on her calves as he sat up to be closer to her. He laid his forehead over hers, whispering softly.

"Everything's okay now."

And once they were on the plane back to Chicago, Edward would start to put all of this behind him.

It didn't matter what happened to Bella now.

It was over.

* * *

><p><strong>And to answer properly, yes, it really is over. I just have the epilogue, and then we're done. Gosh, I can't believe it's really December. It feels like I just started posting.<strong>

**And I hope everyone reading is just as relieved as I am. You can spout off about it if you want. I won't mind. **

**Later! (Hopefully not that much later. ;-))  
><strong>


	15. Heartbeat

**Well, I did say it would later (but not too much later). And here we are! Last chapter.**

**I'll save everything important for the bottom.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Heartbeat<strong>

The stilted melody echoed through the rooms around it with a near precision that would've caused anyone else to cover their ears or at the very least sound-proof the walls to block it out. But the rooms surrounding this melody were far too large for that to work, and instead, anyone nearby made a point of simply remaining hidden for fear that it would disturb the little fingers playing this melody.

A hearty chuckle followed the melody's completion, and the clear, perfect tinkling of a practiced hand began drifting from the grand piano placed in the room just to the right of the front door. Then a frustrated sigh replaced it.

"This is impossible." Unfocused blue eyes clenched shut

"Nothing is impossible," Edward told his student.

"But I can't see what I'm doing!"

"You can hear what you're doing, Sarah," he chastised. "Now, come on. Do it again."

Even with his back to the door, Edward could still feel someone else in the room aside from himself and his pupil, but he didn't move, watching the twelve-year-old girl next to him sit up straight and lay her fingers over the ivory keys in front of her. Though there was sheet music placed in front of her, it was more for him than her since he hadn't really played like this in years. She couldn't read the music anyway, especially since it was in a regular music book. It would be a while before Edward could have the right kind of books, but for now, this was okay.

Sarah wasn't his only student of this magnitude, but she was a lot like he'd been at her age. Add to that the fact that it took her a little longer to master the complicated chords, and she got frustrated easily. In only eighteen months, Edward had been able to recall most of his lessons with Elizabeth, and they were helping for the most part. There were still instances when he wished he'd been paying better attention, but now that it allowed him to do something like this, Edward couldn't complain.

A stray chord caught his attention, and he corrected her as quickly as he could, watching her clench her teeth but continue in her playing. He absently glanced around at a window nearby seeing that it was still snowing outside, and he was worried about Sarah getting home all right. Christmas was only a couple of weeks away, and she and her family were going to New York for the holidays. His eyes landed on the national paper that had come that morning, and he read the headline again.

_Hollywood starlets murder/abduction case still in interim following new motion by defense attorneys_

Sarah dropped her fingers to the piano again, exhaling sharply. "I can't do this!"

Edward turned his attention to her, moving so that he was behind her. "Yes, you can. And if you move, I'm gonna hit my head on the coffee table. So please, no outbursts." He took her hands in his, laying them over the piano so that her fingers were over his. "This is an _A-Flat_," he said, playing it for her. "And this is a _C-Sharp_. Now what is this?" he asked, playing another chord and waiting for her to guess.

"_F-Sharp_."

He laughed softly. "Good. And this one?" He struck two different chords together.

"A _D_," she said, pressing his finger down, "and a _B-Flat_."

"That's right. The keys aren't going anywhere. You just have to feel them out. They all make a different sound, don't they?"

She nodded.

"You think you can try again?"

Inhaling deeply, she nodded again, blowing a deep red strand of hair from her face.

He took his hands away, remaining still and watching as she slowly began playing.

The phone rang a little too loudly from another room, but Sarah remained focused, biting her lip as she reached the part she'd been messing up on and playing through it more smoothly than she had yet. He moved then, still sitting beside her but straddling the bench and turning his eyes to the other side of the room to see Lucy and his father watching him.

The rest of the living room filled his eyes as the fireplace burned bright and warm and the fully decorated Christmas tree set nestled in the corner with more than a couple dozen gifts already beneath it. It was only the second time in his life that he was actually looking forward to it. Sarah finished her melody, a Christmas carol she'd been learning for three weeks, and Edward looked at her.

"I think it's time for you to go home now," he said, taking her hand and waiting for her to decide what she wanted to do.

Without hesitating, she grasped onto his hand and followed his lead as he stood up from the piano and guided her out of the room.

"That was wonderful playing, Sarah," his father said with a warm smile. "You're getting better every time I hear you."

"Thanks, Mr. Cullen," she blushed.

He reached for her empty hand. "You're very welcome, young lady. And please, call me Carlisle."

"Is it about that time?" Lucy asked Edward.

He sighed as he held onto Sarah's small shoulders. "Yeah. We're supposed to get another eight inches of snow tonight," he reported. "We should probably get her home."

Lucy extended her hand and Edward reached for her to guide her to where he was. She didn't hesitate feeling for Sarah and embracing her gently. "You're doing so good," she complimented, her own smile just as warm. "You'll be ready for the Christmas recital in no time."

Sarah blushed even deeper. "Thank you, Lucy. It's only the Orchestra Hall, but thank you. I still can't believe we're all playing there in a week."

"Believe it," Edward boasted. He squeezed her shoulder. "And you're going to do great."

Lucy laughed, and then his father laughed. The room got quiet, and Edward spoke again after a minute.

"Okay, we really should go."

"Let me get your coats," his father offered, moving only ten feet to the front door to extract their three distinctive outerwear from the new coatrack by the door.

Edward took his own first, helping Sarah with hers and then pulling Lucy's around the front of her body to cover her overgrown belly from the elements outside. Since they'd found out she was expecting twins, he'd been extra careful with her. They only left the house when it was absolutely necessary, and though he didn't like the idea of her being outside in the cold, she was nearly as stubborn as he was. It was hard to argue with her.

"Be careful," his father requested.

Edward smiled as he guided his two passengers out the front door, and he pulled Sarah's hood over her head before they stepped out into the fat, wet snowflakes falling at a steadier pace than they had that morning. It had been snowing for almost two days now, and the weather reports just kept reporting more. They were looking at having more snow this year than they had in the last few combined. But Edward was happier than he'd been in years.

Though his tastes had changed a little in eighteen months, especially where cars and clothes were concerned, the fact that his SUV was a Mercedes was still no surprise at all to anyone who knew him. It had everything he needed, and he'd bought it with his own money, actually pleading with his father to allow him the chance to start looking after himself where things like transportation were concerned.

The world was pure white with bits of evergreen, gold, silver and rubies dotted intricately over the horizon as Edward pulled out of the driveway and made his way to the gate to leave the estate. Enough time had passed that he felt comfortable still calling it home for the time being. Rosalie had moved in with Emmett about four months earlier, but she still came around to see Lucy, so they saw her nearly every day now. Jasper and Alice had an apartment in the city, but after taking over as Esme's partner, Alice was at the house nearly every day now too. Their family had grown and changed, but only for the better.

Christmas decorations lined the driveway despite being surrounded by several inches snow. Every morning since it had begun snowing a month earlier, Esme had gone down the drive to make sure it was all visible along with the decorations strewn around the front lawn. The gazebo in the back was even decorated, but no one ever went out there at night.

The guard at the gate, a police officer they'd hired after Stefan had been killed, smiled at Edward as he pulled the gate open, and he got a smile in return as the midnight blue Mercedes SUV moved through the gate slowly.

"I wish my mom's car had seat warmers," Sarah said from the back seat.

Edward laughed softly as he drove down the road that would carry them into the city where her mother lived. "What kind of car does she have?"

"A Honda Civic. The air conditioning doesn't work, and sometimes the engine sticks. She's saving up for a new car, but money's tight. She thought we were going to have to pay for my lessons after Mr. Crowley died. Yesterday, she said you were practically a godsend."

He blushed, laughing again.

"Of course, she hasn't heard me play," Sarah added sarcastically.

"Hey," Edward chastised. "You're doing great. I wasn't perfect when I first started, but I got better. You're going to get better too. And I could see what I was doing."

Lucy turned on the stereo then, allowing one of the Christmas cds she'd bought to fill the air. Gently, the classic piano sounds of Jim Brickman drifted through the spaces between them, and Edward reached for her hand.

He didn't usually like Christmas music, especially for the eight years he'd been pushing against his father. The whole thing had felt forced, but now, Edward had so much to look forward to. Christmas made him grateful all over again. It reminded him of the eight years he'd had Elizabeth in his life. Now with the kids from the Center and Lucy and Emmett and Alice, everything was more perfect than it had been in years. Even Rosalie admitted her brother was annoyingly, deliriously happy. Then she would smile and say how much she liked it.

"When are the babies coming?" Sarah asked as they pulled down her street.

Lucy smiled. "Oh, this package isn't going to be ready for another month," she chuckled with her hand rubbing over her belly. "But the doctor says I'm right on schedule, and it looks like we're going to have New Year's babies."

Edward pulled up to the curb, parking and leaning over the kiss Lucy's cheek. "And I'm waiting as patiently as I possibly can. I'll be right back."

She smiled wider. "Hurry. I'll see you on Monday, Sarah." She laughed softly. "Well, you know what I mean."

"Bye, Lucy. Bye, babies."

Edward opened Sarah's door then, unbuckling her and helping her out.

"This weather's crazy," Sarah said as they walked up her front steps to the porch. "Wish I could see it."

He laughed again, opening the storm door and then the wood door for her. "Well, it's beautiful like always," he chuckled. "I wish you could see it too."

The inside of her house was warm and cozy despite its small size, but maybe that made it so. Her mother came in from the kitchen then as he helped Sarah with her coat.

"Oh, I didn't know it was that time already," she smiled with a content sigh.

"Well, with all the snow, I wanted to get her back before it got bad. She's doing really good."

Sarah blushed and bit her lip again, and her mother took her shoulders to squeeze them.

"You've done such an amazing job with her, Edward. I can't wait for the recital."

Edward stepped closer to Sarah and kissed her cheek. "I'm impressed with her myself, Mrs. Marshall. I'll see you on Monday," he promised Sarah.

She laughed softly, and he stepped back to the door waving to her mother. "You two have a good weekend."

"Be careful getting home," Mrs. Marshall waved.

He stepped outside closing the door, easing down to the front walk and then jogging to the curb with the SUV was still running.

Though it was below 27 degrees and the temperature would only continue to drop through the night, Edward could barely remember the last time he'd felt so warm on the inside. Everyone who knew him commented it on every time they saw him — even Eleazar. After what had happened to Kate, it should've put a strain on the relationship their families shared, but amazingly, it hadn't. In fact, they saw each other more often now. Of course, they had more family dinners and get-together's now than they had in the past.

The snow already covering the curb crunched under Edward's boots as he hurried around to the driver's side and climbed in before too much wetness could get inside. Lucy turned her head in his direction, smiling slightly.

"Everything okay?"

She asked him that a lot, and his answer was always the same now.

He leaned closer and kissed her, whispering, "Everything's perfect now. Let's get you home, okay?"

She rubbed his cheek and nodded. "Okay," she mouthed.

With the weather being what it was, Edward wasn't surprised when traffic backed up on the road that would carry them out of the city back to the estate. Cars were packed bumper-to-bumper, and it was almost four o'clock. Edward's phone rang while they were sitting there waiting, and he smiled when he saw that Rosalie was calling him.

"Where are you?" she demanded. "It's been hours."

"We're stuck in traffic, Rose," he chuckled. "But we're not that far from the turn-off."

"My nieces are being deprived of my presence," she complained.

He laughed a little louder. "Well, let me give the phone to Lucy."

She took his phone easily. "Rose. I know. We're always getting stuck here. You'd think he would remember that by now. Yeah, we're okay. We don't know for sure they're girls. We'll be home soon. Bye."

Lucy turned off the phone, laying it over the console. "She's going to be a handful."

Edward took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "Our house is almost ready. I promise."

Traffic moved slowly for another hour, and by then, Lucy was asleep in the seat beside him. They were probably half a mile from the exit that would carry them to the estate when she suddenly woke and grabbed her stomach.

"Oh! Boy. I will be so glad when these two troublemakers decide to show up," she exhaled.

In the darkness of the interior, only a small light from the clock illuminated her for him, but he reached for her all the same. "You okay?"

She sighed softly. "Yeah. Gosh, I need to pee."

He laughed once. "We'll be home in no time."

She laid her hand over his. "I know. I just — Actually, I think I — " She paused, moving her hand. "Oh, no."

Edward looked at her. "What's wrong?"

"I think my — Oh, crap. Edward, I think my water just broke."

He grasped onto her belly. "But you have four more weeks to go!"

She shifted in her seat, laying her hand over his again and inhaling more deeply than she had in days. "I don't think our kids care about the schedule the doctor gave us." She moaned softly, still shifting and squeezing his hand. "Yeah, we need to go to the hospital."

Edward looked around, seeing their turn-off ahead and panicking when he realized how far away from a hospital they actually were. He went ahead and turned off the main road, pulling off to the side and taking out his phone again to call their doctor.

"Gerandy."

"Dr. Gerandy, it's Edward."

"Well, hello, my boy. How are we this evening? Enjoying the snow?"

At a pause in his panic, Edward looked out the windshield and realized he needed to keep moving. "Uh, well, I guess that depends on your perspective. Lucy's water just broke, and we just turned off the expressway to get back to the estate."

"Oh, goodness. How close are you to a hospital?"

Edward looked around again, spotting a sign and doing the distance in his head. "We're pulling onto Roosevelt now. I think we're closer to Elmhurst."

"Well, it seems you're not that far away after all. I'll call the administrator and tell them you're on your way. They'll process you faster through the Emergency entrance with this weather. Tell them I'm on my way, but in case I don't get there in time, I've got an associate there named Carol Snow. She's another OB/GYN I went to a seminar with earlier this year. She's really good, and she's pretty thorough."

Edward inhaled and exhaled as he drove down the road and then under an overpass. "Okay."

"Just stay calm, Ed. We'll get you all taken care of tonight. Looks like you're going to get an early Christmas present."

Despite his rising anxiety, Edward laughed. "Right. Okay."

He turned off his phone then, pulling up to the light and then through it to see the hospital off South York. It would be tricky getting across that in all this snow, but the light helped. It also helped that other drivers were being just as cautious.

The hospital was lit up more brightly than any other building around it, and Edward held Lucy's hand as he pulled around to the Emergency entrance where a pair of ambulances were setting in the bay.

"I'll just go get somebody to help you," he promised Lucy. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'll be right back."

She smiled and sat back in the seat.

Edward hurried into the building despite the heavy snow falling, and the doors opened with a light whoosh to envelop him inside the warmth that was the Admissions desk.

"I need help," he yelled. "I need a doctor. My wife is in the car. She's — She's in . . . labor."

The woman behind the desk hurried to him. "Calm down, son," she soothed. "What's your name?"

"Edward," he exhaled.

She rubbed his arm. "Well, Edward, I'm Samantha, let's go get your wife," she smiled, motioning for another nurse to get a wheelchair.

They hurried outside together, and he led the way to where he'd parked his SUV. Lucy was still sitting up straight inside, but now she was breathing faster.

"Ma'am, I'm Samantha," she greeted. "We're going to help you. Can you walk?"

Lucy pressed her lips together and shook her head. "I'm having a contraction," she huffed. Then she spoke to Edward. "A real one."

He sighed softly, moving forward and easily lifting her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him securely, and Samantha guided them away from the SUV back to the Emergency entrance.

"How far along is she?" Samantha asked as they walked.

"Only thirty-six weeks," he reported. "We had our last doctor's appointment about a week ago. He said everything was fine."

Samantha smiled. Even in the low light leading into the Emergency Room, her wet pink face glimmered from the snow, and her brown hair was already plastered to her head. Her clothes became wet as they walked, and she grasped onto Edward's arms to keep them both steady. "The doctor always says that," she chuckled. "Are we having one baby or two?"

They stepped inside the building then, both drenched as another nurse came with a wheelchair.

"Two," Edward informed her. "I just called her doctor, Graham Gerandy. He said he had a colleague here who could help. Carol Snow?"

Samantha grinned as Edward set Lucy in the wheelchair. "Well, it's your lucky night," she nodded. "Dr. Snow is on-call tonight, and she's already making rounds in OB. Is your doctor on his way?"

Edward nodded, breathing as deep as he could while they walked through the ER toward an observation room.

"We need to get some paperwork filled out while they page her and find a room for you," Samantha told them. "Just sit tight, and we'll take care of everything."

"Thank you."

She rubbed his arm again, and the other nurse with her helped Lucy with her clothes so they could get her hooked up to a monitor for her and the babies.

Once it was just the two of them, Edward sat at Lucy's side and took her hands in his.

"Looks like Rose is going to get her wish," he joked with a small smile.

Lucy sighed heavily grasping onto his hands and then squeezing them tightly. "Ow! Yeah."

She held her breath as the monitor beeping increased, and Edward scooted closer to rub her forehead. "Keep breathing," he said softly. "It's okay."

A light whimper slipped passed her lips, and in a minute, the contraction was over. Lucy exhaled and laid back.

"Crap," she muttered.

Edward laughed. "Good job."

Her unfocused eyes scoured the quiet room, and then she inhaled deeply. "You need to call . . . everybody."

"They'll keep for right now," he nodded.

"But it's been so long. Rose is probably going to call you soon if you don't — "

As if on cue, Edward's phone rang the same ring it had the last time, and he sighed heavily as he pulled it out to answer it. "Yes, Rose."

"Where are you?" she pleaded. "It's almost six!"

He took a deep breath, still holding Lucy's hand. "Um, well, we're at the hospital."

Panic filled her voice. "What? Why? Is everything okay? The babies!"

"It's okay, Rose. We're all fine. I called Dr. Gerandy, and one of his colleagues is going to help us until he gets here. We're safe, and you need to stay calm."

"I'm coming into town right now," she exclaimed, sounding like she was already moving around to leave.

"No, you can't," Edward insisted. "It's still snowing outside. The roads aren't safe, and you'd have to get on the expressway to get here. Lucy and I are okay here in the hospital, and I'll call you if anything happens. Please."

"Let me talk to Lucy," she demanded.

He pursed his lips, smirking and then handing his phone to Lucy as she laid in the midst of a new contraction.

"Rose. Yeah, I know. We're fine. Just stay at the house. Stay with Emmett. Please. Okay. Bye."

Lucy turned off his phone and handed it to him. "Like I said, a handful."

The door to the observation room opened then, allowing a petite, brunette olive-skinned woman in as she carried their paperwork and the nurses' work-up.

"Edward and Lucy Cullen?"

He stood up and moved to the other side of the bed. "That's us."

She reached out to shake their hands. "I'm Carol Snow. Dr. Gerandy called me, said we were having a couple of babies. You doing okay so far?"

Lucy squeezed his hands, nodding.

"How long have you been having contractions?"

Edward lowered his eyes to hers, seeing the look on her face he often did when she was keeping something from him or anyone. He sighed.

"I didn't think it was serious," she confessed. "But I guess for a little while."

Dr. Snow nodded as she marked on the chart. "And are they close together or far apart?"

Lucy bit her lip. "They're kind of close together now."

"It's okay," Dr. Snow assured them. "Babies usually decide when they're ready before even us doctors know. There might be a problem with their lungs. We'll have to keep an eye on them for a little while, but they're close enough to 37 weeks for everything to be all right. We're getting a room ready for you now, so it'll just a little bit longer."

Lucy nodded. "I'm okay. I think my sister-in-law could use some reassurances though."

Dr. Snow smiled and wrote one last thing on the chart. Then she left them alone.

"Okay," Lucy said as soon as she was gone. "Now, I'm scared. A problem with their lungs? I — I can't — "

Edward sat closer to her and took her in his arms to comfort her. "It's all going to be okay," he whispered. "We're at the hospital. They're going to take care of you, and if anything's wrong, they'll fix it. You believe me, don't you?" he asked, leaning back to lay his forehead against hers.

"Most of the time," she grinned.

He wrapped his hand around the back of her head. "Then believe me now. Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

She grasped onto his arms. "I'm gonna hold you to that."

Edward breathed as deep as he could, holding her and their children as close to him as possible.

From there, it took probably another fifteen minutes for their room to be ready, and by the time they made it to the elevator to OB, Lucy had already had several more contractions. Dr. Snow wanted to wait on examining her until they were in a private room, and that's exactly what she did once Lucy was settled.

"You're dilated almost five centimeters," Dr. Snow reported as she did a sonogram. "And you're almost eighty percent effaced. If you were contracting as long as you think, we might be having a baby as early as midnight."

Lucy groaned softly. "Midnight? Why so long?"

Dr. Snow sighed. "Well, we don't want to cause any duress to the babies, and Dr. Gerandy is having trouble getting here with all the snow. The roads outside are deadlocked, and I'm inclined to have him wait until it's safer to get out. But don't worry. Everything's okay. We're looking good. You don't need to eat, but I can get you some ice to keep you hydrated."

Lucy nodded, laying back and grasping onto Edward's hand. "Okay."

Dr. Snow smiled and rubbed her belly. "Do you have any names picked out?" she asked them.

Lucy squeezed Edward's hand, and he laid his hand over hers. "Michael and John if they're boys, and Elizabeth and Bree if they're girls."

"Those are wonderful. I'll get you that ice."

She stepped away from the bed, and Edward leaned over to kiss Lucy's cheek.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her over her lips gently.

Lucy held onto him a little tighter. "I know."

The waiting was horrible, even after they gave Lucy something to take the edge off. She still had to get through four hours of contractions with just a cup of ice to keep her from becoming dehydrated. Rose called back three times, demanding updates, and each time, she got the same response from Edward that Lucy was doing fine and needed to focus on staying calm for the sake of their children.

It was close to eleven-thirty before Dr. Snow decided Lucy was close enough to start pushing. With their room being private, Dr. Snow called in a set of nurses to help. Edward stayed with Lucy even after they shoved a sterile gown on him and told him to stay out of the way. Lucy was amazingly calm the whole time, even after Edward watched the first baby come out crying. He thought he wouldn't be able to handle it, but he watched the nurse who handled his first child carefully, and Dr. Snow smiled at him.

"It's a boy," she announced.

Lucy smiled and squeezed Edward's sweaty hand. "Michael," she sighed happily.

"Sit back for just a minute," Dr. Snow encouraged. "We'll bring him over as soon as they check him over."

Edward stroked Lucy's messy hair, thinking she'd never been more beautiful than she was right then. And as soon as the nurse brought their son to them, Lucy's ears and her lips perked up instantly.

The nurse laid the baby in Lucy's arms, smiling at Edward and then moving to help Dr. Snow.

"Edward," Lucy whispered. "Is he beautiful?"

Edward laid his hand over the baby's head, listening to him whimper softly as he flailed helplessly. "Actually, he's very beautiful." Edward leaned in and kissed her temple. "Just like his mother."

Lucy held her son closer. "You have to be my eyes, Edward."

He kissed her skin again. "Happily."

Another minute passed, and the content smile on her face faded slightly. "You should take him," she ordered, handing their son to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to panic.

"My water just broke again," she informed him, grabbing her still swollen belly and scrunching her face up as a new contraction hit her.

Edward moved quickly, gently laying his son in the waiting nurse's arms and then returning to Lucy's side as she almost immediately began pushing.

"Oh, crap," she cried.

"It's okay," Edward soothed. "I'm here."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed harder than she had before.

"You're doing good, Lucy," Dr. Snow urged. "You're actually kind of lucky. Most ladies have to wait a while when it's like this."

Lucy groaned and clenched her teeth. "Oh, I don't feel lucky! Shit!"

More pushing followed, and Edward stayed close the whole time. A nurse kept their son on the warming bed, wrapping him in a towel and checking him over. Edward returned his eyes to Lucy just as their second child came out, but Dr. Snow didn't look as happy as she had just a few minutes ago. Then he could see why.

Something was wrapped around the baby's neck.

"It's okay," Dr. Snow assured him. "It happens more often than people think."

While cradling the baby against her arm, she gently but quickly untangled the umbilical cord from around the baby's neck. Then she began lightly tapping the baby's back.

"What's wrong?" Lucy pleaded, holding Edward's hand tighter.

Edward couldn't speak. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

What could he say?

Then before he could say anything, a tiny cry escaped the baby's mouth, followed by a louder cry, and the crease across Dr. Snow's forehead disappeared as she held the baby up and then leaned forward in front of Lucy.

"Sorry about that," she said with a shake of her head. "She wanted to cause a little bit of trouble upon her arrival."

The grin on Lucy's face couldn't be denied. "She?"

"That's right," Dr. Snow chuckled. "It's a girl."

Edward couldn't stop from laughing himself, and he barely hesitated in speaking. "Elizabeth."

Despite being born second, Elizabeth was actually hungry first, and as soon as she was cleaned up, the nurse helped Lucy to try and feed her. She told Lucy it would probably be a little while longer before any actual milk would come out, but it was important for Lucy and her children to bond. Lucy was more receptive than expected, able to hold her daughter to her breast and feed her after only a few tries.

Edward watched from a rocking chair nearby with his son in his arms.

The nurse left them alone once Lucy was settled, promising to be back if they needed anything else.

"You're doing such a good job," he complimented.

Lucy smiled as she swaddled the baby in her arms and caressed her cheek. "She's a good baby. And a troublemaker — just like her daddy."

Edward laughed softly, turning his attention to the baby in his arms. "They're both so perfect." Then he cleared his throat. "Rose is going to be a little disappointed. But I think Jasper and Emmett will be thrilled."

Lucy laughed with him, and after that, they both fell silent.

Once both babies were fed and double-checked by the nurse on call, Lucy got to rest while her baby girl and boy got baths and fresh diapers. Edward asked if their cribs could stay in the room even if it meant more interruptions in his own resting time, but as long as he understood to keep an eye on his children, the nurses had no trouble leaving all of it up to him.

While Lucy slept, Edward pulled the small cribs close to him so he could lay on the couch and call his father. He was surprised to discover that his father was awake, but given what was going on, it shouldn't have surprised me at all.

"Hey, Grandpa," he greeted with a smile, hearing his father chuckle.

"Am I now?"

Edward laughed softly. "Yes. Did Rose ask you to stay up in case I called?"

"Well, of course," his father insisted. "I believe she threatened me within an inch of my life. I almost forgot how much of a handful she is."

Movement from the bed where Lucy was sleeping caused Edward to avert his eyes, and he rose up a little to make sure she was still asleep before he looked at the babies. Then he spoke again. "You and Lucy are absolutely in agreement about that." Edward paused, sighing contentedly before he continued. "Dad, they're so perfect. I'm worried."

"Why?"

Edward shrugged even though he was on the phone. "I don't know. I guess I just don't want anything bad to happen."

"Edward, you're going to be a good father. I see the way you are with your students, and as long as you remember everything you were taught, you'll do just fine. It probably doesn't hurt that you have an independent, willful wife as their mother," his father chuckled softly.

Hearing his father so relaxed at two in the morning helped ease Edward's nerves. "We'll have to stay at the house until Lucy gets settled," he said absently. "I don't want her to have to get used to a new place while she's getting used to Michael and Elizabeth."

"Just get some rest while you can," his father suggested. "And we'll be here when you come home."

Edward laughed just once. "Okay."

"I think I'll go to bed now and leave you to Rose's wrath in the morning."

A mock groan passed Edward's lips. "Gee, thanks. Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," he said as sincerely as he could.

There was a pause, and then a response. "You're very welcome. Now, take care of your family, and we'll see you soon."

"All right."

He turned off his phone with a soft chuckle, laying the phone over her chest.

Nothing but what was in this room with him right now was more important to him, and as long as it stayed that way, Edward knew he was going to be okay. He didn't like admitting it, but he had Bella to thank for all of it.

He didn't want to think about rescheduling anything or putting anything off. There was no reason why he couldn't still keep doing what he was supposed to do. With any luck the snow would be mostly gone by Monday, and if not, at the very least, the roads would be clear.

Beyond that, the only thing Edward had to worry about was making sure his son and daughter, and his wife, were all safe and healthy. Everything else could wait.

And it would.

No matter what Rosalie wanted.

* * *

><p><strong>And after all of the shit that happened, who would've believed it would get a happy ending. <strong>

**Am I writing a sequel? No. Will I be writing a couple of stories you could consider prequel/outtake type stories? Yes. When will they be posted? I have no idea.**

**I have several story ideas kicking around in my head, so I'll have to prioritize. If you really want them, you have to tell me. **

**I want to give a big thanks to everyone who put this on their favorites and alerts, and I really want to thank everyone who reviewed along the way. Haven't reviewed yet? Now's the time.**

**And if you're so inclined, you can check out my profile for more of my Twilight stories.**

**Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  
><strong>


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